Although this was written a few years ago during a relatively minor, though annoying, health problem… now that I can no longer swallow effectively with the cancer, it seems to fit the bill perfectly 😉
I’m just a tad bored with my diet,
There’s nowt wrong with yoghurt per se
And I know that it’s good for my innards,
But you don’t want it three times a day.
The antibiotics are awful,
Make me ravenous morning till night,
I’m fair pittled off
With no vittles to scoff
And I’d kill to have something to bite.
I dream of a nice bacon sarnie,
On thick buttered bread, golden brown,
A crispy fried egg nestled in there,
And bright yellow yolk dripping down.
Just a couple of nicely cooked rashers
As ambition, it isn’t that big…
It’s taking the biscuit,
I daren’t even risk it,
Yet look like I ate the whole pig.
A nice bit of rump steak would do it,
With cognac and mushrooms and cream,
And a small glass of Burgundy with it?
Ah well, lass, at least you can dream…
It is all bland and boring at present
As I wait for the duff bits to heal
And look forward with glee
To the day I am free
To indulge in a heavenly meal.