Wednesday, September 17, 2008
When teatime is over
and the last crunch has been crunched
the stale crumbs fallen from the plate,
the aftermath of your lunch.
A lone pea he sits
on the tablecloth
where have all his friends gone?
they've been eaten with the broth.
The poor slice of carrot
He was left out cold on the side
He cries out for all his brothers
Where have they gone to hide?
They are hidden in your stomach
And down your food pipe
They are ooohing and aaahing
With the mash potato and tripe.
So eat up me hearties
Or the leftovers will be sad
Don't you leave a crumb,
Or I'll get nice and mad!