Now I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
You can keep your marmalades
Jams and your various spreads
Just give me a bottle of HP sauce
Cos I’d rather have that instead
Not served in a plastic bottle cos
At times they can suddenly spurt
And before you really know it
You have sauce all over your shirt.
No, served from a glass bottle
It flows in a steady stream
That mixes with your hot butter
To provide a culinary dream.
You can keep your haute cuisine
Because what I enjoy the most
Is lashings of hot butter mixed with
The brown sauce on me toast
They looked at me in horror
Breakfasting at this posh caff
And one of them had cheek
To just stand there and laugh
And then to make doubly sure
Me and me habits weren’t seen
They went and put me table
Behind a large folding screen
I find it rather irksome that
The breakfast for which I lust
Is regarded by so many as a
Habit of loathsome disgust.
No, I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
All night long
rain bucketed down
When going out this morn
Water ‘twas almost everywhere
Squishing
and
Squelching
As
Seagulls swam without a care
though not a fish in sight
My feet in giant wellies
were damp and cold
as well they might
Squishing
and
Squelching
without a care
Too much water everywhere
So swam back home
to my nice comfy chair
breakfasting
on kippers
with a pot
of Earl Grey tea
No more
Squishing
nor
Squelching
in the rain
for me…
NO 1246 NEW POEM ONLY
Sponsor Brian Strand
Posterity
Adam, the man, was up early and stood on the terrace
his body was pale as the unborn sun
sitting on the low wall on the terrace, he evacuated
down to the roof of a neighbour.
Since he didn’t have paper, he wrote on the wall
“I shat here!”
Later, the woman who makes the breakfast and
clean the house came; an elderly maid, who had
seen it all.
While Adam was breakfasting came to the terrace
hosed down the offending words.
Adam’s pathetic attempts to be remembered for
posterity was in vain.
Staying in a neighborhood
Where locals live and shop
Gives a taste of life beyond
Where all the tourist buses stop.
Discovering a small cafe
And breakfasting outside
Opens up a little window
To a place where folks reside.
Of course, the highlights beckon -
The museums and the parks,
The monuments and buildings
From which history still harks.
But there's something very special
When you start and end each day,
On your travels, like a native,
In an unassuming way.
To mill pond at dawn's new day
rippling sunbeams over the calm surface play
freely amongst the stately swans gliding there
in contented pairings, turning sees' a hare
and leveret munching on borage and honeycombs
breakfasting, as a polluted tributory stream foams
with poisonous effluence five hundred yards away
to mill pond at dawn's new day
There are only guys
to my surprise. I,
the token woman, up early
A.M. to the company of men,
breakfasting in the fast track
restaurant of choice-- me
and a million hamburgers
served, it's said. Two men
read scripture in tandem:
neither one the boss, occasionally
marking a passage with a pen
after a sip of coffee and a bite
of sausage, hot pancakes,
maybe. Wonder if they knew
520 calories on the menu,
300 on mine, coffee negligible,
so am I eligible for extra
blessing? The java's good, and
not to be rude, I memorize
nothing but an Egg
McMuffin.
Breakfasting with champions
Sound nutrition for a growing girl
Delicious, too.
Damn near perfection.
Cat in my cradle
sharp claws and foreboding meows
prophetically scratching out neural canals
filled with songs of the way it goes.
‘Charm’s a scheme’ – opus in D Major
‘Maturity a bitter disappointment’ – e minor fugue
and ‘The purpose of a human life,
no matter who’s controlling it
is to love whoever’s around
to be loved’ – Symphony in C
Songs to plug in by
Lifted by laughter into the network
of lovers and livers
thinkers and givers
titans and dreamers and friends.
When the overspeed trip triggers
it’s good to know
that the power’s still flowing
ready for next time
of plugging in
and cooking breakfast.