Every meal is a work of great ordeal,
Spices and sauces are added to their further appeal,
Of all the meals that make my day,
Breakfast was an art for me to portray,
From boiled Eggs to fried sausages,
I relished and devoured the succulent oranges,
Lunch found me packed in an airtight container,
Waiting for me to describe it like a painter,
Opening the box of treasure,
I chewed and munched in utter pleasure,
The creaminess of carbonara melted my insides,
While the Italian herbs burst into flavourful tides,
Dinner came by putting my system to cool,
Where I sat back finishing my remaining fuel,
Steaks, canned peas, and a handful of cheese,
Was all it took to put me at ease,
Bowing in gratitude to my last meal,
I cherished how it made me feel
YOU ARE READING
A Poetaster's Poems
PoetryThis book is a collections of my poems. And I am delighted to share them with you'll!
