Every now and then she baked
And we'd all come in saying nothing that mattered.
waiting for that soft lump to grow
as big as the room it was in
I remember us all standing on the chairs by the lamp
and her telling us to get down
before she finished one of her stories.
(..and if I ever see her again )
She always ended with "and that's the way it was."
and the room was always warm and friendly.
^