Food Talk
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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
