CRÚISCÍN...CÍSTÍN BAISE
(LITTLE JUG...LITTLE PALM CAKE*)
Auntie Mary’s
currant cake & blackberry jam
“Mmmmmmmm”
The jewels in the crown
of our forever summer
holiday
precious Corkonian objects
brought back to the lowly lowlands of the Curragh.
All the blackberries
that ever were
bursting with sunshine
& childhood
Jumping into
the jar for her
as if it were
an honour.
They & I
transformed by her
love
& lovely laughter
cake baked
with smiles & chuckles
winks & singings.
Me on her knee...tiny
being kissed to bits
Me being devoured
by an enormous hug
smothered in bosoms
many many yellow flowers on her purple pinny.
Her blowing my curls
out of the way
so that her smile
could kiss me
more &
more...er!
Me unable to
comprehend anything
of her
Cork accent.
Me saying “Yes..? ” & “No..? ”
in all the wrong hilarious places
(to my great embarrassment
& her great amusement)
her breath
tickling my cheek
telling me
she loved me
...loved me...
& that I looked
so good
she could
“...ate me! ”
*******
(* Homely little terms! A little jug of milk and a little cake in the palm of your hand.)
A cístín baise is a little cake made on the side of the griddle especially for the child...eh...“helping” with the baking.
This was written for my Aunt Mary who passed away recently leaving me with nothing but the memory of her love...her all abiding love...that not even her death can diminish. I simply adored her.
The Cork accent is like fast fluent French cross pollinated with
sing- song Welsh...almost impossible to understand unless you are immersed in it for a couple of months! But of course she would also play with me and make up a whole lot of what they call in Cork...
“glig glag”...silly talk.
She was so easy to love.
A child’s delight!
Passionate and memory filled imagery. First Class Steve.................10.735 recurring
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
At our house, we baked 'baby biscuits! ' The bits and pieces of dough, left from the cutout biscuits..half moons, and stars, pearls and bird eggs...they were as free as our imaginiation could make them! Loved this, and loved my Aunt Ella...as well!