I’m finding that despite the improvements in the weather I am not out and walking as frequently as I should with the result that my weight is increasing. This is clearly down to eating junk and not what Lent is all about. Hence today’s poem.
The Devil: he sits at my shoulder
And tempts me both morning and night.
Sometimes with heavenly biscuits,
At others with Angel Delight.
Mr Kipling must be on his payroll,
His cakes seem to meet any crisis,
We’re all seduced by the labels:
‘Exceedingly good Angel Slices’.
I’ll resist all these tempting misnomers
With 29 poems yet to write,
Avoiding the cakes and the biscuits.
I suppose the red wine is alright?