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The World On A Plate

The mountain of potatoes
As tall as can be
Topped with gravy
Beckons me
The sprouts are boulders
As hot as lava
They roll down the mountain
And crash into the trees
The trees are broccoli
That smile and wave
They are cut down
By small orange disks
The small orange disks are carrot
That dance among the trees
All day, all night
Then they lie on a soft pink pillow
The soft pink pillow is chicken
That lies at the edge of the forest
And cushions the carrot
Under the shining sun
The shining sun
Is a Yorkshire pudding
That lights up the small world
And never rests
The knife grins menacingly
And stabs the chicken
The fork cackles
As the world is destroyed.

by Jessica Wood (11)
London


Competition - Poetry Detectives

Copyright remains with the author.