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.
Copyright © Mike Smith | Year Posted 2017
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