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PICNIC WITH THE CHEESELETS

Waspet and I are together again,
Clouds all fluffed up.
Looking shiny and new,
Waspet's even making me.
Her famous honey dew
and ant stew.

One of the side effects
Of a nuclear war,
It changes many different things
As never before. Who would
have guessed, Intelligent wasps
Were now the only carnivore.

Today she's taking a break,
She says her wings
are beginning to ache.
So we're taking the boatman
beetle, To cross the lake.

Some of the Cheeselets,
Have asked if they can come across.
Waspet said yes (she's the boss),
I don't mind they've been good
to us.

Made me wonder what they are after,
I've never seen Cheeselets.
Hunting in a pack,
Then again They've always got my back.

Well I never the Cheeselets have found,
Frugal truffles in the ground.
I've never heard them sing underground,
The cheeselets did, it's frugal truffles
all around.

The old saying goes;
The truffles have a magical taste.
Eat them slowly never in haste,
Frugal truffles to good to waste.

First bite a rainbow of taste,
Goes of in my mouth.
It's almost as though,
All my senses have gone south.

The taste is whatever you wish,
Awakening old lost desires.
Half remembered things,
Set's my mind on fire.

First bite mums apple pie,
My taste buds give a sigh.
Second my first glass of wine,
Whatever way you wish to dine.

Your first bite of chocolate,
Even that would be fine.
It's been a glorious picnic,
One for the ages of time.

Waspet starts to pack up,
It's time to get going.
When daylight drifts away,
Before nighttime begins
Showing.

The boatman beetle had fun,
Foraging in the sand.
Time to leave this,
Once forgotten land.

To get home to our fluffy cloud,
Snuggling up with waspet.
On a cold wonderful night,
The star's are shinning brightly.
Wonderfully in the embers
of a dieing day, Goodnight.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley