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Every Sunday, we would meet
At Mama’s, twas the place to be
Good home cooking, what a treat
We were one big happy family

Until the day, Mama changed it up
Served us, in these little black pans
We couldn’t tell what it was for sup
We were all a bit of a baffled clan

We asked and pried, to no avail
She said dig in, and stop yapping
All we wanted was a little detail
Never ate what needed unwrapping

One by one, we all stuck in our forks
Each time we pulled mashies and corn
Seems Mama forgot to add the pork
So there we sat, sad and forlorn

But Mama ate away at her meal
Seems she simply didn’t understand
Her dish was lacking in plate appeal
From the table, we all did disband

Now, maybe you’re thinking shame on her
The woman didn’t feed her poor family well
But Mama knew exactly what she was doing
When the other dinners, into her belly, fell

 

February Writing Prompts – Mashed tators and creamed corn cake – Day 26/28

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