Take a loaf of thick white
From out of the fridge,
Undo it, and take out two slices;
Lay both of them gently
Inside the machine,
It's morning, the toaster entices.
Take a second or two
To savour the scene,
Forget every thought of that porridge;
You know in your heart
What you really prefer,
To your loved ones it's just common knowledge.
Now all is set out
On the dining room table,
The marmalade jar is a calling;
The spread is awaited,
The toast has popped up,
Now to linger would just be appaling.
Thick bread or thin,
White bread or brown,
I won't be complainin' or beefin',
It's what I deserve,
My meal is now served,
And I can't wait 'til I get me teeth in!
(Written Sept 2012)
You make toas sound delicious - can't wait for breakfast tomorrow: -)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
now the way this sounds i wish making toast tasted as good as you made it sound lol