Indulgence

When time has come for digestive celebration
My mouth will water during preparation
Picking the products, yes, I must focus
Cutting the mushrooms, ‘tis no hocus pocus

Pasta, tomato, they take it in turns
White sauce poored over… oh, my stomach yearns
Oh, grated the cheese that I sprinkle above
This dish of mine is layered with love

Then in the oven, the virtue of patience
Thirty-five minutes of cruel temptations
My nostrils are filled with a heavy aroma
The beauty of which nearly gets me in a coma

At last it is ready, this cathedral of food!
Cursed are thee, who now dares to intrude
A serving for Me, and one for Myself
Then I take the remainder, a spoonful or twelve

The feast has now ended, the meal devoured
Leaves me on the couch, by fatigue overpowered
You may call it a pleasure, or call it a flaw
But eating lasagne is not against the law