WHEN MA STARTS BAKING COOKIES (A POEM)

When Ma gets out the yellow bowl
And her sturdy wooden spoon,
And sets out butter and some eggs,
And the can of cinnamon,
I watch as she finds raisins and
A bottle of molasses,
And then she gets her rolling pin,
And she never even asks us,
‘Cause she knows we all love cookies
And the cookie crock needs fillin’ –
I help her cream sugar, eggs, and butter,
And don’t do any spillin’.
From the Hoosier cupboard comes
The Watkin’s bottle of the flavorin’,
My mouth begins a- watering,
In wild anticipation.
Then Ma takes out her receipt book,
The one she writes inside
With only just the best receipts,
The ones she serves with pride.
I know she knows it all by heart,
But she says it wouldn’t do
To forget a single thing,
And this I know is true.
I watch as flour, soda salt,
Go in the yellow bowl
And when the bits of dough have baked,
I know she’s reached her goal.
While the spicy cookies cool
On Ma’s old wooden table,
I help her clean the kitchen up,
As well as I am able.
From the icebox, Ma brings out milk
And pours us each a glass,
And asks do I want to taste the little cakes?
I thought she’d never ask!

–Sandra Lee Smith

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