“Seven-Course Meal”

I knew today’s prompt wasn’t something I could sink my teeth into, so I offer this poem written during my creative blitz over the weekend. Peace to your ♥ !

Seven-Course Meal


   I have eaten here
   before and after and also
   in between.


   When I overeat
   I forget the way to my heart
   is not through my stomach?


   I have a feeling
   when I stuff my emotions 
   down my throat—heartburn.


   When tempted, close eyes.
   Open eyes, open bag, open mouth.
   Shut up, conscience.


   I am powerless
   to resist desire, and it is
   gnawing at me.

   I can exercise
   restraint, but I need a leash
   or a trainer.


   I know better
   than to give up. It’s worse
   than giving in.

© Stephanie Malley

NaPoWriMo20 Day 21 - I didn't use today's NaPoWriMo.net prompt. 

“The Bottom Line”

I’m calling this “light verse about a weighty subject.” :) Enjoy! (And, of course, peace to your ♥ ! )

 The Bottom Line

Every July, suppressing a sigh,
My cardiac doctor would say,
“Your weight’s too high; you really must try
To take a brisk walk every day.”

It wasn’t as though I didn’t know
Time walking was very well spent.
I did—even so, my get-up-and-go
Quite often got up and went.

I’d be good for a while, decked out in style
In sweat-wicking exercise clothes,
But as each added mile became more of a trial,
I’d opt to stay inside and doze.

One holiday, I swore not to delay;
I made a New Year’s resolution:
A daily sashay was a small price to pay
To alter my weight distribution.

When I glanced at my rear in the bedroom mirror,
I saw it was worse than I thought.
If I hoped to appear in a swimsuit this year,
I couldn’t sashay; I must trot.

While it was forty degrees without any breeze,
I maintained a respectable pace.
Then along came a freeze; I grew weak at the knees
At the thought of what I would face.

Refusing to doubt, I went shopping about
For a parka and long underwear.
By the time I set out, now even more stout,
The only thing brisk was the air.

It soon became clear I’d be nowhere near
Ready when summertime came.
My hubby (the dear) said not to fear,
I’d be his sweetheart just the same.

Did I really care if my derriere
Was a lot on the larger side?
After all, to be fair, I now had gray hair
And was no longer a blushing young bride.

But I didn’t quit; I resolved to get fit
And not worry about my appearance.
Over time, bit by bit, as I kept at it,
My clothes gained some much needed clearance.

When I last saw the doc, I gave him a shock;
He couldn’t believe I’d been walking.
Now look at the clock—it’s time for sunblock
And letting my feet do the talking.

© Stephanie Malley