FOOD

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

We eat it with knives, forks and spoons,

Sweet or salty,

We have it cold,

And sometimes hot,

When we are sad,

And when we are not.

Through the year so much food is sold,

More than a giant can hold.

In plates and bowls,

Nearly nor one hates,

The tastiest thing they've ever had,

Even if it might make them not so glad.

A favourite dish

Might be Quiche,

Or even some lemon and fish.

I'm licking my lips,

For a plate full of chips

And barbecue dips.

Although food can be great,

It might make you late

With your life,

And might make you forget the things

You love best.

(Emma Dimitrova, my 10year old daughter, 23/03/2019)