Disappointment circles the table
Focus on the sole object at its centre
Thoughts of delicious treats shattered
Because there is but one
Decisions to be made on how best to honour this gift
Be that pie, crumble, stewed
Consensus sought, compromise made
A pie is forming, hunger biting
Fruity aroma spills into the room
Crockery and cutlery set, for the feast
Then the door bell chimes, a stranger joins
With the harvest of Waitrose's finest.
Formal gathering or just because
The wafer choc causes a fuss
Individually wrapped to draw appeal
Hoping yours has not been congealed
Scent of mint is released on opening the lid
A sight so familiar since you were a kid
Unwrapped between your fingers, coating hard
A tiny bite, jelly attached to a shard
The blend of chocolate and mint seal the fate
Treat in itself, just after eight.
Sunday night viewing has returned to pace
Damien Lewis, pesky Brit, a familiar face
Drama continues, plots thicken and unfold
Edge of seat, stories to be told
Conspiracy, intrigue, all play their part
Carrie's character, led by head not heart
Debate continues, patriot or foe
Lifted up to running mate, from your average Joe
Mixed reactions, aspirations, is there a series three?
All from our Home, Land of the free.
Farmers wives and trendy teens
A competition, up they spring
To show their art and produce the goods
Armed with shiny trays and pins of wood
Temperatures rising yet the rain lashes down
A homely marquee, stadium for this crown
Tension, creation, sweat and tears
Cooking times adjusted, "points deducted" fears
Finally judges deliberate, comment and criticisms make
All this passion and effort for a winning home-made cake.
Dampness mixing with the sun
Produces a misty veil across the fields below
Emerald reinstated from the drought and haze
Of days, weeks, previous
Sun on my back, a near cloudless sky
Feels ones soul with joy
A distant rumble of cars
The sole intrusion to this enjoyment
Staring further, across meadows and gentle hills
The rays glint on towers and large maison
Soil remains wet, a good dousing it had
Awaiting its equilibrium from the sun.
It's that time again
My resistance is poor
And tummy is rumbling
Craving for more
I'm in need of a snack
Though I've just had lunch
Hoping not to crack
Please give me something to munch
Chorus
Snacking time, is a happy time
Whats your favourite treat?
Pickled onion corn snack
Monster Munch - you're hard to beat!
The emptiness catches me unaware
Panic makes me stop
All the cupboards now seem bare
Quick! to the corner shop
Chorus
Snacking time, is a happy time
Whats your favourite treat?
Pickled onion corn snack
Monster Munch - you're hard to beat!
I survey the bursting shelves
Are the crisps at the back?
Ah Monster Munch at my 12
But wait, a Nik Naks multipack?!
Chorus
Snacking time, is a happy time
Whats your favourite treat?
Pickled onion corn snack
Monster Munch - we are you shaped like feet?
Stepping from the taxi, he waves, full of glee
Attention to an occupant veiled by tinted glass
A beaming smile, a bounce, and off he struck
Scarcely a glance to the space of the departed
Curiosity of bystanders of this open joy
Out of place in this Monday mundane
What has made this man so alive?
A deal won, a friendship rekindled
Perhaps an afternoon romp or tryst
Envy of his sated state bites briefly
His excitement fading, like him from view.
.JPG)