Lunch Break Poem by bob barci

It’s lunchtime and I’m pleased.
Fill my belly with food I eat.
I can see by the way you’re lookin’ - you’re thinkin’ -
‘The size of his belly says it’s always lunchtime.’
No, not so,
you should hear how it growls at times.
I get so caught up in what I’m doing sometimes
I don’t even think about eating and pass up the meal.
And that’s been happening a lot lately.
But, not this time,
I write over a sausage and egg platter.
Well, I’m happy.
My belly’s happy.
And the poet in me is happy.
And you can’t complain about that - can you?