Remembrance of Things Past

For Marcel Proust, remembrance of things past
was brought back by a simple madeleine,
and with its taste he left the world of time
with crumbs of childhood in his lap again.

For me, it's not a biscuit with my tea
that brings remembrance, as for M'sieur Proust,
but a bacon sandwich with tomato sauce
as breakfast in a cafe in Llanwst.

We'd start our work at six to load the van
with hot bread from the ovens before dawn,
then drive it out through freezing country lanes,
the load of bread behind to keep us warm.

And after making sure the valley farms
and pubs had got their rations for the day,
we'd stop at ten for bacon sandwiches
and mugs of tea to keep the cold away.

And when I taste a bacon sandwich now,
lost times come back to me, like M'sieur Proust,
and I'm fifteen, it's cold, but I can smell
the bacon in a cafe in Llanrwst.