The bacon is put to the test.
As it travels from room to room
The fragrance of it's impending doom.
Noon feeds into the day,
With sandwiches on a tray.
Simple little pleasures with tea,
"Is that a packet of crisps, I see?"
Evening sun brights the sky,
The oven has cooked the fish dry.
A hard days work topped with beer,
And chips to go with all the gear.
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