Cinnamon Toast

Now this really takes me back:

the comfort that meant the most

when sick: my mama made a snack

beyond compare: Cinnamon Toast.

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Simple, really; it's just bread

store bought like every-day

but I perked up when she said

she'd make it in that special way.

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Toasted light, but with a crunch

slathered thick with margarine

just the thing to have for lunch

and sure to bring a grin.

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Seeing sweet dust of sugar grains

among the spicy brown!

no matter the aches and pains

I'd gobble the pieces down.

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My mom would use the special plate

for sick kids (this time for me!)

She sit by me while, bundled up, I ate

near the portable black & white TV.

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It was simple, just a snack

but more than snack, it meant

'I love you' as she made that stack

Of spicy, sweet, butter-like scent.

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She'd mix the magic, stir it nice

each piece she'd cut in four

small triangles, each mini-slice

for flu or cold the cure.

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Just buttery, sugar, cinnamon

on wee triangles of toast

(though being sick was never fun)

this is the snack I miss the most.

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Now, I am old and cannot eat

that sugar (pre-diabetic: it's my blood)

nor eat bread that's made of wheat!

NO pasta, rice, or spud!

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But, sometimes, buying groceries,

I stop and catch a whiff

of sweetness making memories freeze

and my wondering mind ask 'What if?"

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What if it really was a spell?

Some magic, myth, or lore?

That suddenly made a child feel well?

And an adult long for more?

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Is cinnamon toast in your happy memories? Do you eat it still today?

Leave a comment and let me know!

abab