Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
If it's freezing cold.

The slow cooker's on,
set to auto
and I should know,
now
my hands smell of onion
though they're not finely chopped,

I finished the preparations
and finally stopped
for a break,
one more breath and I could be
on Masterchef,

so
dinner's in the offing
about six
I'll be scoffin' the lot.

Wednesday can be fun
if you're up
before the sun
which is better than being
up before the Beak.
Boyscout diaries #63
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
137
   Terry Collett
Please log in to view and add comments on poems