Childhood Rhymes

Can she bake a cherry pie,
Billy Boy, Billy Boy,
can she bake a cherry pie,
Charming Billy? Can I help,
offers Charming Billy... But no,
that's fine, won't take long, the
seasonal cherries sitting washed
in the colander, slowly migrating
to the bowl, de-stemmed and
pitted. Again, an offer to
stand by me, and share the
pitting, but no. And finally the
colander is empty and the bowl
is full of ripe, bright cherries,
halved, juices luminous and
fragrant, ready to be baked
into a flaky-crusted pie for
Charming Billy. For him, my
hands are hennaed, a measure of
unstinting love. The pie baked,
redolent and tempting but not
quite as swift as a cat's blink.