Porridge Oats

Porridge Oats

Porridge was something of a revelation to me two years ago. As a first year student, breakfast was a fairly rare event. I just didn’t have time to faff around with food in the morning and nothing was particularly filling anyway. Then came porridge. It’s literally the best breakfast ever. It takes only a few minutes to make, tastes wonderful, and fills you up like nobody’s business. Pretty soon I was regularly having it for dinner as well. Shortly after this discovery, I wrote this poem to express my new found love for porridge.

Porridge Oats

Porridge oats, slide down our throats
They settle in my tummy
So who can blame, If I happen to claim
That porridge oats are yummy?

Porridge oats, made into coats
They’re warm but rather gritty
So who can cry, if I choose to imply
That porridge oats are pretty?

Porridge oats, on ten pound notes
A truly perfect feeling
So who can shout, if I’m singing it out
That porridge oats bring healing?

Who'd complain, if I said it again?

Who’d complain, if I said it again?


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