elbow deep in suds. I scrub at stubborn,
baked on rements of last nights meal.
Aromas rising out of my oven,
they tantalize my stomach,
and cause my mouth to water.
I await the cooking of my potatoes,
to turn a golden, shade of brown,
and crisp up at the edges.
Then I toss the gammon in the pan,
red hot, that I listen to it sizzle,
my belly gurgles at aticipated meat.
Add greens and other veg to boiling,
water on the stove, excitement builds,
as it darkens before my eyes.
Finally its time to eat, my day is now
complete. I work, I eat, sleep, dream
and write, my dismal days away.