The clock strikes twelve and it’s the middle
Of the dark end to the day
And it’s usually when my stomach wakes up
To grumble and rumble and say:

“The snacking hour is upon us
Head quickly to fridge
And hasten to the kitchen
Because I need more than just a smidgen
Of food to ease my itch”

So I pile up a plate
With all I can find
Not a crumb or a cornflake
Gets left behind

It’s a feast fit for a fatty king
Or any very hungry thing

And so I eat the night away
My stomach has a blast
Until the sun rises in the sky
And it’s time to get breakfast.

Midnight Snack - A short funny poem about nocturnal nibbles