I never think of food
It’s always there
Weetabix for breakfast
Porridge too
Orange juice I have
In great supply
And tea to drink
The Empire’s favourite brew
And soda bread
My mammy liked to make
Now in my old age
I like to bake
And chocolate
To keep this old man sweet
And dinnertime
I will address some meat
If I want
A nice man will deliver
Food well frozen
Heat up well
Then cooking hardly ever
It’s all so easy
Never have to worry
Where next meal comes
It comes on the next trolley
I hear of famine
In the far away
I read of famine
In Ireland’s sorry day
But I like the rich man
In the story
Surrounded by the luxury
On my table
Cannot begin to know
What famine feels like
Or hunger, come to that,
I have never been there
I have my charities
I give for children
It never ends
Demands for help
In hunger
In famine and in war
Brave people show they care
We have to help those folk
Who might go under
We cannot live in splendid isolation
One day we’ll find
Pandemic at our station
Then panic will kick in
We scour every bin
And find ourselves
A hungry desperate nation
Jesus on the hillside
Saw the hunger
Of people in their masses
Endless queue
Hungry for the word of life
Hungry just for food
He shared the bread
And that’s what we must do
Brian Fahy
27 May 2021
Erris Poetry 