A little poem about Welsh Cakes

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    An ode to the Welsh cake – A poem by Cathryn Scott


    Are you a cake
    Or a little drop scone?
    It doesn’t matter,
    You’ll soon be gone
    Into my tummy
    You tasty wee thing.
    Oh, you’ll never know
    What pleasure you bring!

    I like you best
    Hot from the griddle.
    Mustn’t roll you too thick –
    You’ll be raw in the middle.
    Raisins and cinnamon
    Mixed in with that dough.
    Sugar sprinkled on top,
    How I love you so!

    Memories of mum
    My brothers and me cooking.
    Scoffing the dough
    When no one was looking.
    And now I’m all married,
    With kids one, two, three
    They do the same
    While I pretend not to see.

    You never last long though,
    I can’t have just one.
    Overindulging is
    Part of the fun.
    On the day of our saint
    You are easily found.
    But I’m no fair-weather fan;
    I eat you all year round.

    I bake them for loved ones
    Who now live away,
    A little taste of home
    When they come to stay.
    Delicious with breakfast
    Or a hot cup of tea,
    Oh! Humble Welsh cake!
    How I love thee.

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