Rainy days kept comin’ down
Shut in and nothing’ to do but cook,
Each day Abigail added some dish,
To the leftovers she tried from her book.


The old oak table was laden down
With casserole pieces and peas,
Just as they started to eat supper,
Came Aunt Lou, Uncle George, the children, with their pleas


Poor Uncle George got laid off at the plant,
Can’t find work, fat, fifty, no new skills,
So he carries his little family to anyone,
Who’ll hear his latest list of bills.


Abigail is a good sort and kind,
But what shall she do with leftover pieces?
I know, she thought, and quickly brought
Into her kitchen her little nieces.


You spread the potatoes on the bottom, she ordered,
I’ll grate some cheese in between,
Leftovers, cheese, and onions they layered,
Old peas, old corn, a spoon of tuna, limp turnip greens.


The last bit of cheese went across the top,
Then she poured it all over with cream,
Baked the mess at 350 degrees,
Had enough to burst them at the seams.


The next day the rain stopped
And a good thing, thought Abby,
Without a grocery in the house,
My own family can get pretty crabby.



© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)


 

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