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The Custard Years Poem -Alan j Wright

 I frequently talk about the spark of an idea that can grow into a flame.  -A flame that lights the way forward. I am buoyed by such moments...

A brief conversation with a six year old regarding how much she likes blue jelly had me instantly reflecting upon my own childhood and suddenly my mind was filled with custard, not literally of course, but thoughts of how custard was a dominant dessert during my early years, so long ago. Suddenly young eyes lit up- 'You should write a poem about custard, Papa.' 

And so the poem, 'The Custard Years' began to form in my mind. Here, now is what was revealed.









The Custard Years


It’s amazing

how much custard one can eat

before the age of ten. 

For I certainly ate a lot of custard

early in my life...

Custard was a dessert staple.

I loved it lump free and viscous

-mellow yellow

Simply mum made

using Foster Clark's custard powder.


For me 

they were my custard years. 

Custard with ice-cream, two-fruits, or jelly

Custard tarts, or just custard neat and slidey.

For some kids it might have been

their jelly years

-or heaven forbid- their instant pudding years

junket and flummery years

But custard was the king back then.


After the age of ten

Somehow,

-and for no particular reason,

that I can think of

custard found itself added to

the long list 

of lost lamented delights.

Alan j Wright









It is yet again Poetry Friday and our genial host this time is  Patricia J  Franz. Patricia offers up a Golden Hinge poem.  The fun part of this form is marrying a favourite line from someone else’s poem with your own words – and seeing where it takes you. Patricia borrowed a line from Traci Brimhall’s “Mouth of the Canyon.” Visit Patricia to discover she eventually landed. 

Comments

  1. I clearly have missed an entire part of childhood —the custard part!! Now, armed with this poem I will go in search of that neat and slidey dessert !

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pattricia, I wish you well in this quest. It may not sit well with your adult palatte, but I can honestly say that having had a childhood soaked in it, I still enjoy it in trifles when the occasion presents. Custard may have been an Australian thing, possibly handed down from our British forebears.

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