Mrs B’s

With 10 shiny pennies she would run down the street.
A sweet shop her destination. Pick and Mix her weekly treat.

Those were times in her life when pleasures were pure,
Without life’s complications later sent to endure.

Arriving outside Mrs. B’s corner shop,
its twinkling beauty would always make her stop.

Peeling lattice windows slightly dusty and dim
belied the many treasures lying hidden within.

With a trembling hand from both excitement and cold
the door would swing open and the childhood magic take hold.

With her cup of hot tea and a smiley red face
Mrs. B was a friend, her sugary grotto a safe place.

The glass jars stacked on shelves held coloured shapes of all kinds.
Rhubarb custards, sherbert lemons, mint humbugs, chocolate limes.

Now 30 years old with a small hand in hers
the excitement returns unchanged by the years.

Once inside the same colours, the same jars, the same smells.
The same sense of magic and sugary spells.

And stood behind the counter the same. Mrs. B.
With a smiley red face and a hot cup of tea.

With a nod of recognition and a glint in her eye
she asks my quiet daughter “What would you like to try?”

And so with a bag of flying saucers and a few chocolate limes
the spell has been cast in this shop frozen in time.