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FOOD TALK Got home at six thirty Looked in fridge, at liberty To choose dietary perfection Or tasty delectation. Sitting cold on a plate My wife’s kasha spoke to me, Saying, “ Yesterday they all ate But all you had was a cup of tea And my flavour you didn’t taste You didn’t savour, oh such a waste.” Plate whispered, “Eat me now,” So I sat down there to chow. ‘Twas Wonderland Alice’s “Eat me.” I grew in size, felt marvellous. Maybe Lewis Carroll’s wife - she Cooked too and made him abdominous.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

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