Garlic prawns and flambé scallops
a turkey roast fit for a palace
a ham that’s soaked in marinade
then slowly cooked for a whole day
and sirloin beef that’s tender-smoked
all smothered in a honeyed coat
soft-boiled eggs and panfried bacon
drizzled with an oil libation
and rolls of icecream, rich and pure
I do not touch – I do not dare
Camembert, a waxy crust
with creamy magma I do lust
and brandy snaps with farm-fresh cream
served with strawberries, pav and steamed
Christmas raisin pudding – a tiny piece
perhaps I can afford to eat?
It’s after all a special day
but if I do, I’ll surely pay.
Really I should not sit down
or I won’t fit my custom gown
for silk shows every belly bulge
and I’ll regret if I indulge
but all the family’s lining up
to load their plates – I can’t miss out…
The deed is done – the die is cast
I really can’t let Christmas pass
without the usual homage paid
to all things good, and rich, and baked.
I know that Wednesday, my dressmaker
will measure guilt in millimetres
Her tape is vastly unforgiving
the shape I’ve worked on - lost - to sin.
But what the hell, tomorrow morning
I’ll get up early and go running
or that’s the plan….. for now I reckon
I’ll take my empty plate for seconds.