All I wanted was a book of recipes like yours
Like the one you kept like a hidden treasure,
On special occasions, you'd leave the kitchen
Smelling of spices, roast chicken and plum cake.
The wild shopping spree just before Christmas,
The cake-mixing at midnight done together,
The written recipes followed to the last line
The spontaneous tweaks to the plans that I make.
This book of magic is abandoned after this loss,
Though the Christmas flavours linger in the air,
Goodwill, happiness and merriment-the first time
I had celebrated Christmas with flavours at home.
The secret recipes, the love of wine and laughter
All are lessons that I have learnt from you, mom.