Memories of an era bygone. when the cobblestone pathway Lead to my modest home. Beneath the May flower trees as I playfully roamed. Wild and free When heaven on earth was my sweet home.
Summery days, the best I've known. The silent scorching sun fiercely as it shone. Mommy's idea of drying up spices in open spaces, unfortunately my playzone! "Cinnamon" said she, do keep an eye, Lest by the wind it should be carelessly flown.
Me, a sweet innocent girl, you see. Like kids that age, curiosity got the better of me. I picked a cinnamon stick from the heap and popped it in my mouth in childish glee. Goodness gracious! This be sweet hell. Overwhelming juices; all pungent, sweet & savoury!
That be the day, this girl so wise, Like cotton candy, sweet and nice Scrambled upon a brand new vice. She'd tip toe into the kitchen, whilst Mommy was immersed in dice & slice. And sneak out spicy sticks to chew, from a jar labelled... "CINNAMON SPICE".