This week’s poems have been sent in by readers Wilf Daniells and Gillian Fisher.
I can’t resist a ready meal
Although at times I seem to feel
I should resist the hiss I hear
When ready’s time is getting near
I think I should cook for myself
But ready looks good on the shelf
The tempting pictures swell my heart
From peeling spuds I now depart
Not to be a kitchen slavey
Boiling veg and making gravy
No greasy plates to scrape and wash
Just dump the packet, squash, squash, squash
Into the bin, if it’s a sin
At least it helps to keep Me thin.
-- Wilf Daniells
PROSPECT OF A HARVEST
Wheat, and other crops are ready and the motorised fortress combine harvester makes steady field-reaping and sorting progress. Advancing on each ear, awn, stalk. Few will stand free, but to weave the biggest corn dolly, with sample sheaves. What gathered riches fill the barns, awaiting visits to the miller! He’ll crush grain with the wind’s elan – except barley for the distiller.
-- Gillian Fisher