Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table



Earthmother, manqué.


Sometimes I find it hard

To resist the growing urge

To cook for the children,

The ten or twelve I never had,

Or cater for the horde

Of hungry friends that once

Came knocking at mealtimes,

Eager for food or fellowship.

The phantom feet still beat

A path at times to my door,

And wait like patient pets

For recognition and relief.

At times like these, I shiver,

And make vast cauldrons

Of hot and bubbling soup

Massive crumbles and pies,

Roast beef, all the trimmings,

And try not to count

The empty chairs around

My waiting, groaning table.



January 10, 2009 - Posted by | Art, Cafe L'Arte, Cafe Literati, family, food, friends, love, personal, photography, poetry, Viv's Art, Viv's Poetry, women | , , , , ,


  1. Awww, this poem always makes me feel sad, Viv. Even though in actuality, I wouldn’t like to have hordes of people beating a path to my door – or have had hordes of children that need feeding, I can feel the worth behind those who do. I would like to be like that, and be in a situation where I could feed the five thousand at a moment’s notice, but I know I just couldn’t. It’d probably put me in the funny farm. *smile*

    Comment by jennypaws | January 10, 2009

  2. There is a sadness to it…but wait, I feel…something else…oh, yes -I’m HUNGRY!! (It was the crumble that did it)

    Comment by kevmoore | January 10, 2009

  3. I do a bloody good crumble too, Kev; drop by next you’re both in England and I shall show you!
    I did used to want a massive family; one old friend has now stopped reminding me of the cricket team I used to talk about having because I threatened him I would break his nose if he ever mentioned it again, because it makes me very sad to know that I had little talent for motherhood. Oh I can still cater for masses at a minute’s notice even though these days it’s rare to have people descend. When we lived off the M1, we used to get friends stop by instead of going to the service stations!
    The little statue is one made from Fimo, some years ago, when I went through a spell of making goddess style sculptures; Fimo is far from a good material for what I needed so I made only this one figure and used clay instead.
    My mum was one of eight and her mum one of twelve. I had hard examples to follow, shall we say.

    Comment by viv66 | January 10, 2009

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