Down the hallway comes the squeaking of wheels,
As the kitchen staff deftly delivers some meals,
And some of you might find it quite surprising,
That the scents that came with them were quite appetizing.
And I actually lifted the cover to see,
What the Hospital Chef had prepared for me.
Although I had made the nurses aware,
Of the foods I am allergic, it taunted me there.
Eggs scrambled sat perched next to crispy fried bacon,
Even smelling it was asking for trouble making.
The aroma of coffee came with the meal,
In a brew so strong that it could tarnish steel
A single shard of toast sat limp by the side
And a sliver of melon about a finger wide.
I had told them my allergy to eggs and need for bland food,
And this gift from the kitchen did little for my mood.
Salt free I can deal with, I do all the time,
But to take away sugar and replace with artificial was a crime.
So there I sat with a meal I could not touch,
Not that I ever do eat much
But to be tempted with food I love but canâ€™t eat
Left me feeling betrayed and quite beat
Seeing that I was not in a good mood,
My nurse asked why I had not touched my food,
I told her my trouble and she said not to worry,
That another plate would arrive in a hurry,
And sure enough it came and I looked at my stash,
And anger gave to laughter in a withering flash,
No scrambled eggs there, wilted toast or melon,
Nor bacon or coffee, just a tale worth the tellinâ€™
On the plate sat, pretty as you please,
French toast and a sausage for dieting ease
And a tall glass of tomato juice to sip with the meal,
The nurse looked confused as my laughter did peal,
I just waved her away, it was not worth the trouble,
If that last plate was bad this one was double.
I am allergic to eggs, canâ€™t stomach grease,
And I will not tell you what tomato juice does, if you please.
So I covered it up and decided to laugh not cry
At least this is one meal that will not find my thigh.