Plates of chicken,
Beef, lamb and pork,
Cherries and grapes,
Fresh from the stalk.

Salads and noodles,
Lettuce, tomatoes, corn,
Not a glass out of place,
Not a prawn.

A enticing odour,
From bottles of wine,
And perfect food,
The finest of fine.

On a separate table,
With red velvet cloth,
Lies stacks of deserts,
More than enough.

Cakes and cream,
Puddings and pies,
And in the corner,
A pavlova lies.

An incomplete job?
Not in the least,
Look at the food,
What a feast!