ramblings and things

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Breakfast time at


Bosworth Hall Hotel.


We found our way by


Following the smell.


 


Excuse me I said as


The flames inched higher,


I think I've set


The toaster on fire.


I think he realised 


It wasn't a joke


When he saw the 


Rising smoke.


 


I'll give him his due


He didn't linger,


Shouted bloody hell


As he burned his finger.


 


Feeling guilty


I hung my head


As he extracted


Blackened bread.


Breakfast


Though rather nice


Lacked the touch


Of a second slice.


 


Once again


I got into a fix:


Hotels and me


Don't seem to mix.

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Burnt Toast