SUNDAY

Yorkshire pudding rain clouds
Drifted out
Of the oven
Whilst her beef
Was in need
Of a seasoning
And potatoes
A well roasted
Coat.

The top of the hob
Was covered
In cauldrons
That troubled
The bubbles
That boiled,
As carrots and peas,
And badly cut Swedes,
Dried out in the evening heat.

But worse than the taste,
And the obvious
Waste,
Was the static
Attraction
Created
By the glaze of
The gravy
Once plated.