Stop all the chocs, cut out that Toblerone,
Prevent the pastries baking, hide that fruity scone.
Once I’ve cleared the pizzas and each muffin crumb,
Bring out the coffee; let the slimmers come.
The Weightwatchers’ Circle, moaning, overfed,
Nibbling on the sly, needs roughage, it is said.
Now that we’re all gathered, let’s take the pledge to slim -
For weddings, (and a funeral), best if we are trim.
I swear, henceforth, my mouth won’t feast on pressed
Duck, ham and leek or stuffed chicken breast;
Won’t spoon crème delight or pork hong-kong.
I thought that weight loss would be easy: I was wrong.
Oat bars are now what’s wanted: eat up every one;
Pick up the prune and ditch the currant bun;
Pour a Slimfast potion; sweep away real food.
For nothing, when I’m fat, can lift my dreary mood.