CREATIVE WRITERS’ LUNCH
Just back in after lunch.
Had steak and wine pie
washed down with a few
glasses of fine wine.
Now I’ve a hunch
I’ll need a long lie
down for an hour or two
before I can pen a line.
MY PIE OF LIFE
I cut into my home made pie of life.
The first slice was succulent and tasty
but it went oh so quick.
The next slice I took made me into a wife.
Perhaps scoffing it had been a bit hasty
because I became sick.
The third slice I ate while I was a mother.
I hardly had any time to taste it
before, like motherhood, it was all over.
The fourth slice I shared with another.
Not a single morsel was wasted
but when it had gone so had my lover.
The fifth slice I took my time to savour.
I suddenly found the pie had more flavour.
I’m sure it had become more mature.
I wanted more. “Please Sir, I want more.”
The last slice sits in the cupboard, almost forgotten,
but I’m eating it crumb by crumb until my pie finally goes rotten…