You're all invited to my party.
No, not Jack or Jill or Marty.
I'm inviting apple strudels,
pies and tarts, the whole caboodle,
custards, puddings, buttered scones
(with muffins and bagels, I'm not alone),
cookies, croissants, an eclair,
and my lovely baklava, so dear.
The neighborhood buffet boasted
fried chicken and biscuits, toasted,
creamy gravy, and smashed taters.
You can serve yourself, no waiters.
Into the long line you will strut
more than ready to fill your glut.
Bypass the green salads and soup;
run quickly, to the fried foods swoop
all you can eat for one price cheap.
Pile your plate high in one big heap.
If one plate full is not enough,
get back in line and your mouth stuff
with fried okra and sweet cornbread,
rice, beans, pasta, and liver spread.
Undo your belt a notch or two
so one more bite you can chew.
Desserts abound, cookies and cakes,
puddings, custards, tarts, and milk shakes.
Round out the meal with soft ice cream.
Maybe two cones won’t burst a seam.
You leave, with a bloated waist thick,
well-sated, and full as a tick.
It was way after eight, at the Cat in the Hat.
The whole plaice was swimming, quoth the mackrel to sprat.
Though the milk was upset, she still stifled her cry,
So sorry i spilt you, mumbled poor humble pie.
My joints are the bees knees, squealed the honey roast ham,
And the apple agreed, she was better than spam.
Then red herring denied, he had something to hide,
Like a small Bombay duck, is a fish that is dried.
While tasty choux pastry, bared her soul to an eel,
The mock turtle announced, i believe i am veal.
And the ice cube was crushed, as she played fast and loose,
For an orange refused, to be part of fruit juice.
As warm rhubarb crumble, melts in custards embrace,
The sour gooseberry tart, wails she's taking my place
Then a voice in my head, spoke it's all fantasy.
Your table awaits you, said the waitress to me.
I glanced at the menu, it was all a la carte.
I said, bring me everything, but let's start with that tart.
I love the egg custards, the apricot Danish,
And the warmed up apple dumpling.
And I especially love the creamy rolls,
Filled with that special something.
Do you like your apple crumble or,
Is your favourite coconut cream?
Is it the cherry crumb biscuit, lemon meringue,
Or a lemon supreme?
If you love indulging on all sorts of muffins,
The blueberry, carrot or bran,
And then dining on all the beautiful cakes,
If your favourite’s the Spanish flan.
Then I believe we should go on a date,
To the biggest bakery we can find.
We can have the greatest restaurant meal,
Leaving meat and three veg behind.
Nutritionist, diabetes or
dietician
All to be unheeded in my
sweet tooth's opinion.
For how can I abandon
That chocolate canyon?
And same goes for yummy
chocolate fudge
Eh to a trifle could I bear
any grudge?
Ah treacle or caramel pudding
And apple crumble needs no
bidding
The craving wishes to devour
the dessert
Few would desert a tasty jam
tart!
Not forgetting swiss rolls and
cup cakes
and whatever other
sweetmeats the baker bakes.
Ah custards, ice-creams,
muffins and jellies
the only deterrent perhaps, the
fear of rounded bellies
Only if the dietician would
recommend instead
to cut down on leafy grassy
veggie salad
For if there was for it a polling
booth
I'd vote in favour of my sweet
tooth!
I have been here before, many times before. I was here at Normandy, I was here at
Thermopolis, I was here at Gettysburg, and at custards last stand. There are white
bleached skulls under foot, as I survey the valley below. It is, as all men must find not
a valley of death, but of despair. It is a place where warriors go as their time draws
near, a place of gray and dark, of serene silence and yet a maelstrom of buffeting wind.
It is the icy stab of bitter chill and the empty hollow of true isolation. It is the fear
in a man’s heart as he turns to face a death he has come to realize he cannot escape. I
have been here, always. Perhaps I am a part of every man who has come here, perhaps that
is what you would wish to believe. Through it all, I stand here waiting; I stand here
ready to look a man in his eyes and let the shadow of my scythe block out the light of his
eyes. I am, the final embrace.
Baked turkey and sweet cornbread
Dressing with gravy
Seven cheese macaroni
Collards and green beans
Real cranberry sauce
Take home plates
Yum!
Red velvet cake with pecans
Sweet potato pie
Custards in aluminum
Moist coconut cake
Pound cake with icing
Extra plates
Sweet!