I could not turn on my telly... or read a magazine,
I had to protect my belly... from adverts that are seen...
The kitchen filled my heart with dread... the larder to avoid...
So many ways I could be fed... but then to get annoyed...
This diet is a nuisance, but... I choose to fight the flab,
I hope to shrink this growing gut... so food I must not grab...
Nor walk up close and smell the stuff... their flavours there to sniff...
Despite the fact such smells I love... and oh, what joys they give...
I sprayed the rooms with aerosols, my appetite to quell...
Or else there goes my future goals, my belly then to swell...
I check the scales impatiently... to learn the weight I am,
While daydreaming there of gravy... I gently pour on lamb...
Or turkey, chicken or bacon... potatoes here and there...
Then I stop and put the brake on... to limit my despair...
My greenhouse has tomatoes... and yet I must resist...
Obesity gets up my nose... yet chocolate treats are missed...
One salad, that is all I get, until tomorrow comes...
Use self-control! No need to fret! Distract those teeth and gums...
Hold on, be patient, wait your turn... just think of something else!
Like calories that I must burn... before starvation yells...
Who am I kidding? Nobody! I must eat pizza NOW!
My larder pizza calls to me... Oh, yeah, that's good... and how!
Denis Martindale August 2019.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem