She sits a little pensive, thoughts running through her head,
Listening to the words, floating like whispers
From the café across the bay … “Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling.
Oh, my darling (Clementine)”
And she is quite sure they must have played it for the (fourth) or (fifth) time.
She feels like a pan of water, slowly brought to the boil, left on simmer for (10) minutes,
Then drained and left to cool … this is insane … got to break that rule!
So those Clementines … think they should be blitzed!
Her head feels quite eggy, a half-dozen to be precise
All beaten and whipped, creamy smooth as silk
Of course it is all HIS fault …. He’s just so divine
That sugary sweetness like a full measuring cup
She thinks back on the night, and the feel of his skin
Rough like ground almonds, as wicked as sin!
There will be 250(g) “Hail Mary’s” for that little thought …
But more thoughts rise as though she has added baking powder to the mix
(A teaspoon, nicely heaped ought to do)
Emotions like ingredients get all muddled up, mixed up with a light hand,
A loving hand, a somewhat frivolous hand!
Popped into a baking pan, all greasy and “glidy”
Oh wait … more “Hail Mary’s” to come
What would happen she wonders if she were to heat it all up
(190C seems like a good number)
Baked like a cake, and popped out like a tart
Served with whipped cream after an hour from “start”
Julia Hill (c) 19/04/2011
Listening to the words, floating like whispers
From the café across the bay … “Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling.
Oh, my darling (Clementine)”
And she is quite sure they must have played it for the (fourth) or (fifth) time.
She feels like a pan of water, slowly brought to the boil, left on simmer for (10) minutes,
Then drained and left to cool … this is insane … got to break that rule!
So those Clementines … think they should be blitzed!
Her head feels quite eggy, a half-dozen to be precise
All beaten and whipped, creamy smooth as silk
Of course it is all HIS fault …. He’s just so divine
That sugary sweetness like a full measuring cup
She thinks back on the night, and the feel of his skin
Rough like ground almonds, as wicked as sin!
There will be 250(g) “Hail Mary’s” for that little thought …
But more thoughts rise as though she has added baking powder to the mix
(A teaspoon, nicely heaped ought to do)
Emotions like ingredients get all muddled up, mixed up with a light hand,
A loving hand, a somewhat frivolous hand!
Popped into a baking pan, all greasy and “glidy”
Oh wait … more “Hail Mary’s” to come
What would happen she wonders if she were to heat it all up
(190C seems like a good number)
Baked like a cake, and popped out like a tart
Served with whipped cream after an hour from “start”
Julia Hill (c) 19/04/2011
