“We’ll just have a light lunch today” they said
As they struggled to the breakfast table, fresh out of bed.
“Just a coffee, a salad or a morsel of cheese.”
“Soup’s what I like – oh, and a glass of wine, please.”
The waitress, bemused, is deaf to their words:
Plates slam down on the table, heels clack on the boards.
A soup and a salad, a fish course and some meat:
Two and a half hours later, their stomachs are replete.
Pink and white Britons, their buttons too tight,
Return to their car: “Yes a skimpy supper tonight.”