Bread and Dripping

Bread and Dripping

We kids were a hardy lot

Living on cabbage and spuds

Hardships of war years I’ve not forgot

Breakfast was a bowl of oats

Made with water, looking like glue

You could swallow it down, after a chew

But bread and dripping, my favourite bite

Better than Bovril or even black Marmite

We spread the lot on bread, in those distant days

Even condensed milk was all the rage

Bread and dripping, from a Sunday roast

Spread on bread, but best on toast

A pinch of salt, it was done

Taste the flavours till the very last crumb

Even now, at 77 I remember margarine

Smeared on hair, but we drew the line

If mum used the dripping pot

For this was the best breakfast

We ever got….
Peter's War