


Let the north wind point its ice-cold finger at me
I will go with the flow
My tender loving family wait at the end of the road
Home, where we feed on mother’s mince pies
No fancy frill, honest fare at mother’s table
Something to give our grateful gratitude for
The one silver lining that never tarnishes…
© anita dawes 2020
A lot to be said of silver linings. Lovely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you…
LikeLike
How sweet, Anita. And to someone who’s never had an English mince pie, nothing ordinary about the mother’s fare. It sounds wonderful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You have never had an English mincepie! I shal share the first batch very soon…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I haven’t. Isn’t that odd. We have mincemeat pies, but I can’t imagine that they’re the same as the originals. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
We are talking fruit and spices?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, I think that’s what it is here too. The “meat” I think is chopped nuts. I’ll have to look it up. Clearly I’m guessing here. Lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have never understood why it is called mincemeat. It is so misleading…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me neither.
LikeLiked by 1 person