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...

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She’s a fading flower

Not nearly as bright as she used to be

Though now she shines in a different way

Though she always shines to me

She’s filled with determination,

And don’t try to tell her what to do:

She’s stubborn,

And she’ll do what she needs to do

The day I can’t do my shopping

Is the day I’m finished, she says.

And she eyes me with disdain

Because...

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(This was an attempt at a villanelle but I'm not sure if its quite the right structure . .oh well)

I only wanted to help

And when I offered to get you some shopping

It wasn’t me saying you’re not up to it any more

I only wanted to help

Thanks for the cup of tea

But when I offered to make it

I wasn’t saying your tea was bad: far from it

I just didn’t w...

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