To dunk or not to dunk....

Rugged texture of the twin pale thins
Hiding the slightest, sweetest filling within
Wisps of vanilla spring forth as you take it from the pack
One is not enough, the lot you must attack
Hovering it delicately over a fresh cup of tea
Taste buds a fury, it's screaming "EAT ME!"
Plunging into your mouth, quick
That tasty, custard, creamy biscuit.

Haggis the Brave

Annually with ceremony, yet always well devoured
This lining of mush and grain makes a nation proud
Those south of the border approach this test with reserve
The first taste, stiff upper lip, steeling their nerves
For those in the know, often accompanied with tatties and neeps
A creamy sauce with Glayva surrounding the bland coloured heaps
Flavours creep forth as they did when a child
They laugh at those gullible to think they breed in the wild.

Potted noodle fright

The stalwart kettle springs into action
Responding to this late night snack attraction
In the corner of the cupboard lives a pot
Gourmet cuisine? It is not!
Contents resting under a foil seal
Variety of tastes, to some it appeals
The water ready, the lid is removed
A snack in three minutes about to be proved
Remembering to remove the little bag
Be sure not to eat it, you will surely gag
As the compacted components start to hydrate
Salivation in anticipation, counting down the wait
At last your fork is primed, you are ready to begin
One mouthful, you splutter, heading for the bin.

Fool and hardy

Wandering, wearing shorts although the house is cool
Hidden from spectators, no observers of this fool
Autumnal changes have taken their grip
Winds blustery, guttering that drips
Waking each day to a room noticeably fresher than the last
Darkened mornings with ashen evenings catching up fast
Extra layers to keep the chill at bay
Determined to resist the heating for another day.

The Office, without Gervais

The warmest of familiar sights
Dampens the chances of morning frights
A kind word, a sincere grin
Helps one and all adjust to the quiet din

Variety of the workplace mix
The cocky male, thinks he's good with 'chicks'
The self publicist who drives most berserk
Yet behind his back they call him jerk

Lunchtime arrives in no time at all
An hour, often less, to escape the thrall
A sluggish return to a waiting mouse
Click, click - whirl, whirl - back to it.

#140

Enter a world controlled by a number
Expectations that it will stretch 'me', not make me dumber
It's language of RT and #FF explained by a patient few
Sparing the time to welcome someone new
Providing humour, the absurd and comment
Against temptation to update and scan, I'm not resistant
Carefully I find my feet
Must go now, time to tweet!

Thanks to @frenzyofflies @tlcoff @louiseJhastings @boinkaz and many others

Day of the living

Face, void of colour, betrays you before I ask the question
Taught and pale, distracted thoughts, full of tension
Lost slumber etched into your arid skin and pain filled eyes
Caught up in this temporary trauma when a loved one dies.