Grow With the Dough

Grow With the Dough

A Metaphor for Life

By: DeEtta Miller

I’ve never met a metaphor

I did not like

So here is another

From a 50’s tyke

I’m very old

So, you may not know

Our favorite snack

Was raw cookie dough

Not surprising

Cookie dough can be grand

But if you got caught

A slap on the hand

To eat mother’s cookies

In their raw, chewy state

Was considered a crime

But we just couldn’t wait!

So, we learned to be sneaky

While she talked on the phone

Loading pockets with dough

Then hiding all alone

Pulling soft gooey sweetness

From chocolate-stained clothing

Denying my siblings

With faces of loathing

But I did it, I did it!

I got more than my share

Sitting in darkness

I just didn’t care…

Six decades have passed

Since I filled my young tummy

Three siblings are gone

Including our Mommy

Cooked or raw

Childhood dough was a test

Who could sneak the most

Who was the best

Why must everything

A contest be

To share is better

How can we not see?

Now when I bake

The dough lacks it thrill

If only I could share

Well, one day I will…