2016, Diaries, faith, family, fasting, food, Food wars, holy month, iftar, Islam, literature, lunar calander, month, onomatopoeia, pie, Poetry, pumpkin, pumpkin pie, rain, ramadan, Ramadan Diaries, religion, suhoor
Flick flick flick goes the rain again
Mum can’t watch TV. What a pain!
She tells me about the gutters
then under her breath mutters
Why don’t you listen to what I say?!
Pitta patter on it goes
I put on a sweater and blow my nose.
I had plans to go out but now that’s changed
Then I remember dad’s forgotten his umbrella again!
I have the pumpkin puree for pie
but don’t have the tin, why oh why!
Dessert plans are halted
Mum says we can have bread that can be toasted
But I thought that would be boring.
So I cut an onion and cracked a few eggs
but dad stood behind me and shook his head.
Ramadan is flying by and you’re all eating bread.
You see, he was in shock with the big shift
from pakora and samosa to salad with cress.
I’ll make something tasty he said, get out the meat!
Mum and I objected but dad wasn’t listening,
so I had to step in with If you make biryani, none of us will eat!
My brother ate his sandwich and the rest ate the eggie bread.
Dad looked on in silence, refused the food
then finally I’ll have the pillaow instead.
He offered to make pakora, I’ll only me a mo.
We all yelled in unison dad, no means no!
Then he walked off with a huff and a puff
mum started to giggle,
brother smiled behind a cough,
and I pushed my plate away, stuffed stuffed and stuffed
My poetry is poor and I apologise for that.
But you’ve stuck around till this part
so thank you and please do come back.