Write ups/ Poetry

In my mother’s cooking pot .

In past times , I did most of the cooking .

But with life and school , the dynamic somewhat change and my mum took over ,

Returning home , come with new feelings and experiences everyday ,

And one of it is cooking .

Let me cook for you she said ,

The way that you have missed, our own local way in my own local pot .

In the pot was food,

Again in the pot was love , pride , thanksgiving and joy .

It was a gift and reward for making her “proud”

Such food fill you from your heart to your stomach.

Its a meal that can heal and make whole 🦋🦋

A meal that makes you know why home is home 🏡.

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