nostagia (Remove filter)
Like my Mother Used to Make
I’ve got a desire for a cheese sandwich on fresh white bread
Just like my mother used to make
I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever taste one again
You know, not any old cheese sandwich
But the ones my mother used to make
On cold winter evenings
She’d serve stew and dumplings
And her poached eggs on toast was a wonderful feast
Not ordinary eggs
But the ones like my mother...
Sunday 16th January 2022 7:40 pm
Recent Comments
Stephen Gospage on Prayer for the Little Ones
10 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
14 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
30 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Fallen Leaf
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
1 hour ago
Yanma Hidayah on The heart that waited
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'Little Boy' 6/8/1945 (80 Years Ago)
2 hours ago