poem #48

come eat with me
Come eat with me and lose your scales
and gain lasagne, served with wine,
and ripe persimmons, plums and pears
my fragrant fruit, oh lover mine,
and we will laugh at diet cares
and low-fat bread that swiftly stales.
Come eat with me and feel our flesh
as soft as custard, warm as toast
as comforting as treacle tart
as healthy as a hot nut roast,
my love, who nestles in my heart
—no sell-by date. Forever fresh.
Come eat with me and be my love
with chana aloo, pilau rice,
with gravied pie and salted chips
and tiny pinkish sugar mice
and I’ll caress your curvy hips
forever, which won’t be enough.
Come eat with me. We’ll dine to please;
true love is not a certain size.
Our happiness is what appeals,
good appetite in both our eyes;
so let us revel in our meals
and never count the calories.
– Cathy Bryant
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