My Prize Possession Poem by Catherine Casey

My prize possession toaster.
Four slots of stainless steel -
Gives rise to expectation.
My favourite all time meal.


Bought from stall in Mexico
It had a different plug.
At twice the price a bargain.
I couldn't feel more smug.


Halted at the border.
The guards all thought I’d spied.
With butter dripping samples
Now I’m triple certified.


Duplicitous – that’s both sides,
Or where to put the spread.
Double the delight.
But where to hold the bread?


That yeasti-versal odour
That lets you know what’s coming.
Even half way up the street
It gets your fingers strumming.


Anticipation builds.
Whether doorstep thick or wafer.
Unfolding serviette
I’m feeling quite the waiter.