Christmas dinner is difficult
on a plate
under tin foil
on a tray
in a car
at high speed
plate rattles
gravy settles
peas shake
sprouts sweat
on the flat
plate drifts
followed by gravy
peas dance
sprouts collapse
round corners
plate skateboards
bleeding gravy
peas roll
sprouts stink
upon arrival
skew-whiff
gravy stains
wrinkled and wan
sprouts dead
Oh, Sarah… it’s a marvellous poem that makes the reader feel sorry for sprouts! I like the form and lack of punctuation, it suits the poem very well.
Imaginative “take” on the prompt – terrific!
Great poem. I love the description of the journey of the sprouts and peas and gravy, a great point of view. I can just imagine the look of the dinner when the tin foil is removed, oh dear!
PS. I never did like sprouts – but I wouldn’t wish that on them.
Great, Sarah. ‘sweat….collapse….stink…..dead’ ! That’s life, I suppose!