Obesity is a problem quite serious.
Well serious for fat people who are delirious,
About the amount of fine food,
That their kitchens can exude.
An involuntary, rapturous noise of great intensity,
At spying a plate loaded to some immensity.
Approaching the food with gusto and gurgly drool,
Such is the approach of an avid foodie fool.

Hubert Headpunch had a premonition of lunch,
He smelt cauliflower supreme, a below the belt punch,
Recipes such as they were thought up to ruin his life,
This recipe would have been given to his wife,
By Petunia Pantry, a health conscious busy body,
Irksome, health pursuing and not at all shoddy,
About pressing her very strong views into dishes,
Such as Cauliflower Supreme, against his wishes.
The bane of Hubert’s life, or his stomach at least,
For he held a most different view on what constituted a feast.

Midge slept quite near to her fridge,
If she awoke at night she might make a sandwich.
So partial was she, to good rich tucker,
She would consume more than a trucker.
She did so greatly admire,
Food from the deep fryer,
That she left it always heating,
So at any time of the day she could be eating.
She didn’t require it for energy levels,
But simply for flavour and other food revels.
Some folk thought her not too bright,
But as on T.V., she loved a food fight.
Be it savoury, or be it sweet,
She would gobble all she could eat.
Whether a meal, or whether a snack,
For substantial nourishment she didn’t lack.
Open the jars, open the tins,
And delve deep into bread-bins.

Food, Food, glorious Food,
Let’s not be a food prude.
Guzzle it down, suck it up,
Could be in a bowl or a cup,
Have all you can now take,
Of luscious Black Forest cake,
Much more we can bake,
With cream that is fake.

Midge, we don’t know why she’s so called,
With too much food she’s galled.
Due to what she did eat,
She was in no way petite.
Midge wasn’t a glutton,
She had an active food button.
This was firmly pressed,
When she was depressed.
Out came the left-over pasta.
Microwaved. So much faster,
Grated Parmesan Cheese,
Lot’s, if you please?
And, now, for dessert,
Deep fried Camembert,
With sweet sauce of plum,
So nice for the tum.

Say, that doesn’t sound too bad!
I wonder where it might be had?