After U.A. Fanthorpe

There is a kind of love called breakfast,
which reminds you
there is at least one reason to wake up;
which thinks picking a style of eggs to cook
is harder than choosing a favourite child;
which lays out the dozen condiments
across the coffee table
so you can take your time;
which leaves nothing to waste;
which mixes sweet and savoury;
which adapts; which tries;
which is just as delicious
at the end of the day
as after a difficult morning.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

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