A big box of chocolates sits on my desk,
We had eaten enough that they’d last…
So on Boxing Day, in a decadent move,
I could use them for breaking my fast.
There’ll be turkey sandwiches, cake and mince pies
And the leftover trifle for tea,
The last sausage roll and a sliver of cheese
Will be plenty for small dog and me.
The small dog and I overate just a bit,
What with Yorkshires and roasties and stuff,
But there are leftovers to finish today
And there will be more than enough.
It was cooked to perfection, that seasonal feast,
Bringing memories back with each taste…
But memories linger, and with every bite,
They are lingering now on my waist.
That big box of chocolates will soon be no more
And the trifle no more than a ghost…
So after today, as our waistlines dictate,
We’ll be dining on nothing but toast.