Afters

Fourteen pounds; that’s a bucket of lard And losing that shouldn’t be so hard It’s turkey, pud and let’s not quibble A pretty frequent midnight nibble It’s one whole stone of belly fat Inflating what was firm and flat Slimline tonic won’t do that So did I eat an alley cat? Six-point-three-five Kilograms Twice what sometimes fills our prams Were I pregnant, for my sins Could be that I’m toting twins But I’ve had lots of Christmases And I’m sure when I tell you this Six weeks watching what I eat Will make my tummy nice and neat The trifle’s gone, as is the meat All the savoury, all the sweet It’s time to watch my waist deflate With smaller servings on my plate And so I put away the gin And tonic with no sugar in For gin gives me an appetite That makes me nibble late at night So, fourteen pounds; that is my goal A resolution in my soul But, by the gin, before my eyes A box - unopened - of mince pies!