Roger’s Food Stores – A Poem

This is a tasty orange

Suck, suck…

My pip pouch will be empty

With a bit of luck!

 

I finger the string around my neck

And pull the pouch into view.

There are three old pips inside

But never mind, it will still do.

 

I leap off the sofa

And pucker up my lips,

I spit for the last time

Adding to today’s pile of pips.

 

I smile to myself.

I head for the cellar

To find what I sought

Oh, I’m such a happy fella!

 

Here I keep many tins and cans

I call it my personal  beanery,

For there are only beans inside –

Red kidney, black-eyed, canellini…

 

Sometimes I must count them all

To make sure I don’t run out,

But there are clearly plenty of each today

I can see, without a doubt!

Tense Fruit – A Poem

In the fruit bowl

I am a fumblin’

Because this mornin’

My stomach is a grumblin’.

 

I really fancy something sweet

The perfect choice is a plum,

So I give them all a good squeeze

Using my forefinger and thumb.

 

My fruit is very tense today

And also quite large.

I think they need to relax a little

Maybe I should give them a massage?

 

I pick out the softest plum

And roll it roughly in my hands,

But I slip and do a little juggle,

So on the kitchen tiles, it lands.

 

I brush the dust off my plum

I soon need to be fed,

But it’s just as hard as before

So I go for some chocolate instead.

A Good Scrub – A Poem

I’m feeling very hungry,

What shall I have for dinner?

Maybe a quick lentil loaf –

That could be a winner!

 

Smiling, I grab the ingredients;

Oats, tomatoes, lentils….

And frolic around the kitchen

Picking out the suitable utensils.

 

With the ingredients prepared

In the blender they are thrown,

And I feel quite proud of myself

Because for once I’m cooking alone.

 

I hold the blender in both hands

As if I’m throwing pottery,

And then move one hand to the cupboard

To reach for some crockery.

 

But I quickly begin to lose control

Of the blender as it rocks around,

And before I can even mutter a curse

It falls with a mighty crash to the ground.

 

My mouth wide open with shock,

Splattered all over me is my grub,

All I want to do now

Is strip off and have a good scrub!

Today’s Meals – A Poem

I had some spiced potato pieces 

For my lunch today,

But found a chewy wedge

So then threw them away.

Roast dinner was delicious,

In the gravy – a nutritious lump

But it must have been full of fibre

Because it made me need a dump!

My family finished the cake

That we’d been having for our puddings,

So all that I was left with

Was a load of old stale scrapings.

Bread – A Poem

I hold it in my hands

A parcel of joy

Enveloped in plastic film,

Imprinted with the words

“Freshly sliced for you”

The warmth, the smell, emanating

Overpoweringly delectable

Bread.

 

Unwrapping the packaging,

And then –

The shock! The travesty!

I behold

A loaf of unsliced

Bread.