not having my cake and eating it


My eyes nearly popped as they laid upon the two tiered, cream and strawberry-laced masterpiece that floated by, borne on the hand of its creator, I imagined, a man who appeared from the kitchen.

Leaving the cafe with a belly full from lunch, I gazed at the cake; placed in the window of the cafe, in full view of the residents and visitors of Royal Tunbridge Wells, it flirted with my taste buds and I vowed to come back later for it.

The urge to take a photo was strong and I’m glad I obeyed it; when we returned for afternoon tea the cake was gone!

I wouldn’t have enjoyed it! It couldn’t live up to its beauty, surely?


2 thoughts on “not having my cake and eating it

  1. I’m surprised that you should question whether this is an appropriate home for this piece of writing, Julia.
    What I think you have are the raw ingredients of a short poem – certainly the emotions are there, but how you choose to assemble it seems to have eluded you so far.
    How about the contrast between your mouth watering at the cake on the first visit being unfulfilled by its disappearance when you went back determined to purchase such a work of art?
    I find WOWH an appropriate platform for anything that I write, but have got past expecting people to comment – most people are quite clearly too tied up in their own interests and feelings to take the time to absorb and comment on my writing, but I’ve grown used to that over the years of submitting “stuff” to magazines. Only Smiths Knoll and Pennine Platform ever seem to make time for the courtesy of a reply.

    • Thank you for your comment, Christopher. I think I’m more of a storyteller than a poet and I thank you for your insights into potential poem making from my raw material. You’re welcome to use my ingredients to bake one!

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