Sunday, December 23, 2007

Mama's Fruit Cake

Mama made her fruit cake before Thanksgiving
Wrapped it in cheesecloth tight
Poured a shot of Four Roses whiskey over it
Just about every other night

There was more cooking from that liquor
Blending flavors inside the cake
Mama might forget to buy a present
That cake she would always make

All of her friends couldn’t wait to taste it
They knew it was awfully good
But, this cake was for the family’s Christmas
And, somehow they understood

Grandpa tried to get an early sample
Mama spied him from the hall
She shut the lid on the fruit cake tin
Grandpa got nothing at all

Finally, the big day had arrived
We’d get to taste this cake
Dad faked a drum roll on the counter
“Just cut it for goodness sake!”

Mama got out the plates and the forks
Proud Four Roses filled the air
She started to cut as we all watched
I heard a band play, I swear!

The taste of that cake lives on with me
A Christmas memory, you see
No, not many folks care for fruit cake
But, it is pure love to me

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