Where do those inches go? I wonder
as a reed-thin damsel eats like a dandy.
While I take a morsel, bite it sparingly
afraid that others will see.
Alone on the treadmill, diligently
I trot for an hour or so each day,
But the inches stay put under my belt,
they refuse to go away.
Kind friends who worry for my health
say, “You are getting big aren’t you?
You must do something about it,
eating a little less will do.”
Years of suffering, I’ve found a way.
I’ve been at it for more than a month,
Lost an inch, another ten and I’ll be fit
no sweat, no tears, not even a grunt.
I've not spent a cent on any pill,
I hate secret formulas and dieting,
I forget the time, the place, the food
when I'm at my laptop, rhyming.
20 Dec 2007