Marc O'Brien Poet Rhyme

The Sunny Sunday Roast

Sun is in my eyes 
Waiting for lamb without any fries 
The potatoes have a crispy feel 
After they were cooked and pealed 
I move an inch and the sun gets block 
While my seat stays warm and hot 

Since the winter here is like an appetizer 
With a small bite that makes us start up a fire 
As the winter decides its ready to go 
Only staying a spell, you know 
Its bitterness took out a room and decided to be a guest 
Making us bundle up in our finest wintry dress. 

A cloud just stepped in 
Making this one seat a win 
It protected my eye 
From the brightness in the sky 
Patiently the dish I wait for 
Before heading out the door 

Here comes the Sunday dinner 
from an animal that was sent to earth
to protect us from being a sinner 

Shade has just checked in and turned things comfortably dark 
To enjoy this weekly tradition that really hits the mark 
After all the plates are clear 
And having a feeling of nothing to fear 


Since it was the lamb that went down 
Smothered in gravy that was brown. 

Time to prepare for tomorrow 
With hopes of no Monday morning horror 
But if adversity should arise 
I will be armed since I had lamb without any fries

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