• Café Life is the Colony's main hangout, watering hole and meeting point.

    This is a place where you'll meet and make writing friends, and indulge in stratospherically-elevated wit or barometrically low humour.

    Some Colonists pop in religiously every day before or after work. Others we see here less regularly, but all are equally welcome. Two important grounds rules…

    • Don't give offence
    • Don't take offence

    We now allow political discussion, but strongly suggest it takes place in the Steam Room, which is a private sub-forum within Café Life. It’s only accessible to Full Members.

    You can dismiss this notice by clicking the "x" box

Poetry To Make Cakes, She Bakes Biscuits

The World Between the Words
To Make Cakes, She Bakes Biscuits



There are ways of approaching things,

Of getting a job done properly.

Head-on works for some,

Sneaking behind for others.

But she sidles in unseen,

Making a practice run—or two.



To make cakes, she bakes biscuits.

Filling trays with her dreams.

Risking a little before attempting

A lot, she watches them rise.

A measure of temperature.

Proof of her technique.



Ovens are temperamental.

Life can be that way too.

Things don't always turn out

The way you'd like them to.

Don't trust in others' recipes.

Test what's right for you.



To make cakes, she bakes biscuits.

Love crumbs fall moistly apart.

Crispness bites, snapping brightly.

Worth risking something bigger.

That will last longer than treats.

Sustenance and proof of love.


Paul Whybrow​
 
Back
Top