Based on a handwritten notebook of recipes from Dorothy Eliza Barnes, my grandmother, a shepherd’s wife, who had worked as an Edwardian cook
With girl’s fine nib, in blackest black
you scratched down with your steel pen
‘Puzzle Pudding’, ‘Feather Cake’,
script tiny, taught, as you were then.
Next, sky’s blue strays into the mix,
light as fire’s flare through kindling sticks.

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