The World Hides On My Plate comical poem 675 by Angela Lansbury

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.

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The Fertile Brain In The Rain - comic poem 193a by Angela Lansbury

Anela with one of her many umbrellas. Photo by Trevor Sharot.
 

The fertile brain peers at sun and rain

And trusts that the sun will rise again

But when clouds send a big downpour

Remembers times when earth needed more

But if you've enough water to spare and share

Then you have enough to do well and sell

Malaysia sells water to Singapore

On a long contract, wants to charge more 

Poor Singapore, rich Singapore

Prepares for a supply chain war

One solution's costly desalination

Beware, prepare, for doubling population

Or recycle, build a dam

Fly water from Europe, Japan or Uncle Sam

Bottled water is a danger

Plastic, dead fish, fingers of strangers

Think of troubles from the past

How long does salmonella last?

Add alcohol. Always boil it.

Filter it. What could spoil it?

Over in Israel, so they say

Each glass of water which comes your way

Was drunk by seven others before

It washed your hands and washed the floor

So when we see the sun and rain

Some shrug and others complain

But our fond, fertile brains

Seek to observe, plan and prepare

Explain things which happen again and again

If you are blessed with a fertile brain

And never rest, but take every test

We must praise and encourage the fertile brain

For we start the same but don't end the same

But most of us are blessed with a brain

Which doubles our joy and halves our pain.

Buys sunshade for sun, and brollies for rain

If I've said it once, I'll say it again

We are all blessed with a fertile brain

Yes, we are all blessed, to give our best

We are all blessed with a fertile brain.

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