Sunday Lunch - A Poem

Sunday Lunch

A Poem by Arden Jones

Sunday lunch with all the trimmings.

Stuffing, tatties, gravy’s brimming.

It smells so good; it smells so yummy.

Delicious food-get in my tummy!

But what’s those green things, round and small?

I don’t like them! No, not at all!

I’ll eat the white trees if I must,

And orange sticks, oh I’m not fussed.

A pudding with a gravy puddle,

Warms my tummy like a cuddle.

But green things, no they don’t belong.

Mum says, “But they will make you strong!”

I won’t eat peas or runner beans,

Or broccoli or yucky greens.

And if Mum makes me eat a sprout,

I’ll have no choice…

But spit it out.

YUK!