It's time for lunch, what can hungry souls munch?
Pull out cartons, wash hands, don plastic gloves
We chop up greens, big leaves like fans with seams
Heat bread with small holes, and warm dead sausage rolls
The whole world's on my plate - it's worth the wait
Red, white, orange, green, life's never better
Soft white cheese labelled where? Guess. Don't just stare.
Greek, Turkish, Beirut, Israel, Feta
Now let's begin? Take palm hearts from a tin
What shall I grab? Dad chooses the pink crab
Spicy tomato soup, cumin, gloop, gloop
Glass of fine rose wine, well past its time
Leave room for mushroom, the size of tea spoons
Sliced up, stir-fried, soft small, button mushrooms
Lastly, strong coffee, no chokkies, toffee
Turkish delight? Rose smell, saved for tonight.
For dinner, choose solid protein to eat
Not just chopped up mush, a big piece of meat
'Don't cook too much!' That's no cause for sorrow
Leftovers hide in loved lunch tomorrow
Eat drink and be merry, I always say
For tomorrow you may die, so might I
So let's enjoy ourselves and feast today
Nobody feel sad after chicken pie.
Pie made by Trevor Sharot. Photo by Angela Lansbury.
-ends-
Please share links to your favourite poems.
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