A witty Christmas meal
I helped him eat his Christmas lunch,
The turkey turned out well,
The kitchen, redolent by noon,
With its delicious smell.
The Yorkshire pud all fluffy
And the roasties golden brown…
When asked if I was going to share
I couldn’t turn him down…
The Christmas pud was boozy
Full of cherries, steeped in brandy
… He thought a pint of custard
Might just well come in handy…
I’d baked a batch of fresh mince pies
Before the sun was rising
And with the sausage rolls I’d made,
The rest was not surprising…
I ate the after-dinner mints
As peppermint was needed
To combat overeating
And the calories exceeded.
Though Christmas comes but once a year
For tastebuds it’s a riot,
But come new year, I guess
That I’ll be going on a diet 😉
Thank you for sharing, Danny!
It’s a pleasure.
I loved this poem, Danny. A great share.
Yes, I loved it too.