Today’s poem

I think I’ll bake a cake today. We can have some for tea. Coffee walnut, lemon drizzle, Or plain jam sponge maybe. But when I read the recipe, I guess I shouldn’t say, I still use pounds and ounces Like Mum did in her day. I’ve never really come to terms With kilograms and litres. My mind still works in feet and yards. I never think in metres. When I was a little girl We learned each day

in school That 16 ounces weighed one pound. We knew that was the rule. And we were taught in inches. It wasn’t very hard. That 12 of those made up one foot And three of those a yard. Twelve pennies made one shilling. A ‘tanner’ was six pence. A half a crown was twoand-six. To us it all made sense. Baking cakes and cooking Has always been a pleasure But now it’s sometimes difficult To deal with metric measure. I see a pack of butter. That’s half a pound to me But writing on the packet says Two hundred and fifty g. And when I see two pints of milk My mind is in a fix. For litres on the carton state: One – point – one, three, six. I still use fluid ounces When I measure milk or juice. The use of millilitres, well, To me is not much use. And as for those kilometres They’re really not my style. If I see something nasty I would surely ‘run a mile’. Some people say I’m ‘more mature’ I’m certainly not thick. But all those things I learned at school, They somehow seemed to stick. Still wait till we’re through Brexit And Theresa May announces: ‘We’ve now come out of the EU It’s back to pounds and ounces.’ greta Ward, Hayling Island, Hants.