The Sunday Roast
A British institution,
That is a Sunday Roast
From Basingstoke to Derby
And Land’s End to John O’Groats
It seems to be a favourite for most
Both men and women,
All, young or old
Eyes bright with delight
At a plated Sunday Roast
With Beef, or Pork
Lamb, or Chicken
It does not matter what
Pile on the roast potatoes
A Yorkshire Pudding, or even two
Some overcooked veg, just for colour that’s all
Then flood the plate with gravy
There you have it all!
Tell me why you like it?
It makes no sense to me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem