Sunday, 21 October 2012

Small Town Stew with Molehill Dumplings

So here we go...the first piece of my writing to be published way back in 2008 was this poem written about a nasty experience with people that I thought were my friends. I am sure from the number of reactions that I get to it every time I perform it, that I am not the only one to have suffered in this way. Please feel free to comment below. I would love to hear your opinions.

I can tell you of an everyday stew,
Available in a village near you,
It can be feast upon, a dish for two,
But beware, it may be one that you’ll roux!

Preparation time is less than a week,
And of the stew, your small town, it will reek,
So switch on your oven; give it a tweak,
Ensuring maximum temper is reached.

Ingredients required are found with ease,
A good handful of pies; mixed porkies please,
Some tongues wagging to accompany these,
And a population happy to tease.

A camel’s broken spine, a shredded straw stack,
Plenty of alcohol to keep those tongues slack,
Some food colourings we’ll add, just for the crack,
And whole spices for stabbing that beast in the back.

A mirepoix of great lies flavours the stew,
With a good wooden spoon to stir them all through,
And one TRUTH that will just be kept in the queue,
For garnish, so IT’ll be no use to you.

Now the method for cooking Small Town Stew is this,
Remove all the happiness and most of the bliss,
And, of course, while you’re at it, you may as well kiss
Goodbye to the TRUTH for you know IT won’t be missed.

Beware Molehill Dumplings evolve into Mountains
With the number of stirs they get, so keep counting,
And too many cooks…well, there’s bound to be shouting,
So keep that broth hot, no one wants a TRUTH fountain.

Season the finished stew when ready for service,
Be sure to feed only to those who deserve it,
Because you know that the TRUTH, I shall preserve it
As your stew continues to do its disservice.


  1. Ohhhhh. Good one. I may have been served some similar stew over the years.

    1. Thanks for your comment. I can't imagine that many people who haven't had at least a tiny morsel of it. x

  2. Artfully well put rhyming,
    I like the gentle rant.
    Really good to see
    some poetry from you.
    I am away to find angelica
    at Asda...not one of my friends
    but making a white christmas cake!
    I think of friends as journeys.
    Some are long, some are short.
    Some are close and others are not.
    See some often, see some now and then.
    Some seem extra-special.
    Then there are some who remain,
    if not physically but in memory,
    constancy and companioning. Sue xx

    1. Thanks Sue. What a unique way to comment. I want a real friend called Angelica now lol

  3. I like it!! You are very clever xx

    1. Thanks Sarah. I promised you when I was in Cornwall I'd email it to you and never got round to it, so here it is. It may well be clever, but it's a shame that I had to write it. I doubt very much that my muses for this particular poem even know it exists or is related to them. It was a harsh and horrid experience, so it had to come out in words. My cathartic act.

  4. Oh Wendy I'm impressed. I can feel the knives in my back! Yes we've all had a portion at 1 time or another, especially here in Falmouth.

  5. Thanks for the comment Sue. I know what you mean. I lived in a small town too when this occurred, but now I live back in York and have far more autonomy and anonymity here. I much prefer a city, even a small one.