I like writing poems,
Most are poor,
I’ll post them here weekly,
You can offer a score.
A simple process,
I boil the kettle,
In less than 5 minutes
To test I’m not mental?
Corned Beef – A mans delight.
So picture the scene,
It’s twelve fourteen,
It’s lunchtime soon,
You know what I mean?
I’ve done the toast,
And buttered it twice,
The biscuits are gone,
I need something nice.
So I open the fridge,
And draw in a breath,
But disappointment hits,
There’s just nothing left.
Go to the cupboard,
With positive thoughts,
There might be a tin,
By Princess, the 3rd course?
I’m starving Marvin,
And feeling faint,
A tin with a key?
My god, that’s great!
The excitement hits,
It’s been a while,
I connect the key,
And twist with a smile.
The perfect lunch
In a pub or a park
Corned beef in white bread,
It just hits the mark.
But wait, what’s that,
A jar dressed in black,
It feels all sticky,
And has a golden cap.
Adding some Branson,
The gourmet tipple,
The perfect filler,
The perfect pickle?
A humble treat,
Everyman’s pleasure,
Always a delight,
Something to treasure.
No Micheline star,
No gourmet waiter,
Just eat me now,
Don’t come back later.
In a roll, on a spoon,
or in a slice of white.
corned beef and pickle,
Todays delight.
camping jedi 
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