For a Burp
Steaming, sticky idillis Four tiny ones On my plate; Laced misty thin With chutney And a hint of pungent mint The supper Of an apprentice Is food enough for thought You’re served But token appeasement The flatulence Not the burp Yet you choose To skip the gravy And save On tea and coffee You indulge In salt and pepper To stretch your serving To a fill Ah! For a spread Of dinner… For a full, Delicious burp You sink into Your lumpy bed And hear the bugs Deep sigh You shut your eyes You dream your dreams And tuck in idillis In your sleep