My husband likes the summer,
Some days, the sun might show,
But he dreads that one suggestion,
Which makes him think, "Please, no!"
The hint of decent weather
Prompts an, "I know what we'll do.
We'll dig the paper plates out -
And we'll have a barbecue!"
The very mention of that word
Can make him start to quake.
I can see his brain cogs working
On excuses we might make.
There's a sick friend we must visit?
And she lives up in Dundee?
But our would-be hosts are cunning,
And already checked we're free.
He's averse to blackened sausages,
("Inside they are not cooked"),
And those "odd things stuck on skewers"
Which have yet to get him hooked.
He dislikes "trendy" salads,
(And every type of dressing),
Plus any sort of mixture,
Whose contents have you guessing.
But we stand there with brave faces,
Attempting not to choke,
As we find ourselves down-wind of all that
"Is it lit yet?" smoke...
Juggle plates and forks and napkins...
Live in fear of something spilling...
A man will sport an apron,
For it's he who does the grilling.
People try not to look hungry,
As at last the charcoal's "caught",
But the food will take much longer
Than anybody thought.
There's a jug of something "with a kick",
(It's very often pink),
And the glasses' rims are frosted,
(To disguise that which we drink?)
Those without a garden
Couldn't offer these delights,
But someone had the good idea
Of setting this to rights.
So if you have a balcony,
Or even just a wall,
The invention will make certain
That you don't miss out at all.
Two sausages, two burgers
Can be fitted on its tray,
So the fun of the occasion
Could be made to last all day.
If you've enjoyed this, or any of the blogs,
please don't forget about our Facebook page
(link on right) and please, most importantly,
share with others.
Thank you for your interest and support