Our Feast Poem by Dianne Feaver

Were love the reason for the flesh we gain
my darling, we would be colossal!
Obesity would be our prize
for having feasted, gluttonous and unrestrained,
from every passionate vessel.
Broadly fleshed, bulked up to perfection,
all our mountains buttered hot
insurmountable by any lesser one
without serious consideration.
Belly bulge to belly bulge we would heave and quake
and you, majestic in my eyes, formidable on top.
Our great bed, firm and extra large, a sideboard;
substantial as it is, would groan to bear the thought
We would be titanic! Stupendous girth our just reward.
How we would revel through the years
in a love so substantial as to fatten us the more.
And smug...oh yes..the sheer weight of love we'd make,
enough to bring our poor, thin neighbours to tears.