A Special Book

My house is filled up with hundreds of books, They sit upon shelves, hide in crannies and nooks, A pile on the table, a few by the bed,

All through the rooms they are evenly spread.

It wouldn’t be practical keeping them all,

Or so says my husband, surveying my haul, So each year I send some to the charity shop, Feeling guilty for those that are getting the chop.

But there is one book that I can’t give away,

At least not until some faraway day,

When I pass it down to hands much younger than mine, As my own granny did when she felt it was time.

The cover is cracked and the pages grease-stained, Yet inside there is just so much to be gained,

For these are the recipes our family collected –

And we all agree that it should be protected!

Thelma Fairweather.