With tomato ketchup, my food is laced,
As, otherwise, it cannot be faced.
I love it on salads and on roasts;
I love it in tacos and on toast.
On pies and pizzas, it really is nice,
And on a curry served up with rice.
On spicy fajitas, it really is fab.
Food without it, I find pretty drab.
On potato gratin, it really is great.
Ketchup and I are the best of mates.
I love it on broccoli and Brussels sprouts.
It’s the best taste around without any doubt.
On a fried breakfast, it really is brill;
Its tangy taste gives me, oh! Such a thrill!
On potato wedges, it really is wicked.
A dash of ketchup for me is the ticket!
Without some ketchup, I wouldn’t be able
To eat a meal placed upon the table.
If, on a café table, no ketchup is placed,
I make for the door in quite a great haste.
Other people, they think me a freak,
As I polish off three full bottles of ketchup a week.
To me, a meal seems so much duller,
Without some ketchup – preferably red in colour!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Loved this, quirky and good. Right up my street.