Trifles

Custard in trifle is not bull-shark infested Despite popular myth, ah but so easily tested Pour jelly and sherry, sponge biscuit for bedding Add fruits of the tropics from trees that are shedding A dash of Madeira from slopes that face seaward Leave time for the setting to go for the re-ward. One helping was fine, but the stuff is so moorish A second was taken, to refuse would be boorish One last he insisted and scraped deep in the bowl The taste was so good, so rounded so whole How handsome this man how sweet and so charming His culinary skill so easily disarming. Now sharks there arose but friendly and warming Gliding in gently amongst emotions now swarming Snapping at reason and senses befuddled Gorging on morals abandoned for cuddles Sated at last they’re off to deep water You high and dry and right for the slaughter. With hot blood for transport you’re off to horizons afar Where paradise beckons, soft sands, a singing guitar You feel the shift in momentum, as ebb turns to flow The deepening water as the bottom starts to go Death in small measure as you feel the world sway But buoyant and floating you end off your day. Alas morning has come, big fish bites need healing He’s gone from the pillow, you stare at the ceiling You remember the point of your will power draining When second helpings were taken, your appetites straining And now silly sayings from childhood ingested Return for the taunt - sometimes custard IS shark infested.