Meal Time
Porcelein plate, silver fork.
Tea cup, eggs and toast.
Seven days of normalicy,
some rely on the most.
Paper bag, folded napkin.
Thermos, sandwhich and chip.
Without that noon time lunch note,
who knows where one might slip.
Porcelein plate, silver fork.
Pot roast, potatoe dinner.
Heaven forbid and don't be late,
or you might become a sinner.
To late for me, in the fridgadair light,
up for a midnight snack.
I missed too many meal time calls,
and am now the village quack.
Copyright © Amy Greaves | Year Posted 2010
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