CHEESE AND ALE

Falstaffian appetites bloat my human form
To bursting flesh, my cheeks being freshly roasted.
My diet as wild as tempest, wild as storm,
Morale and merlots shall be rightly hoisted,
Cheese and ale be toasted and be toasted.
With pride let's hurl ourselves off of the wagon
Quaffing stout and cider by the flagon.

My face, an empty carcass, hangs. My eyes,
As fat as green beer bellies, sway protruding,
My bellies spilling past my groin and thighs.
For vanity I'm seldom one for brooding,
My girth and conscience never found in feuding
With stout and stilton brimming plates and glasses:
Dieticians cast into the masses.

Don't seed the chilli, nor the chicken skin,
For man would weep so empty, sob so bare.
To reap your harvest do not spare the gin,
Each fumbled grain, each wasted drop, beware.
The unlived life's disease beyond repair,
Our invitation valid this one time.
Stagger, drunkard, revel in roared rhyme.

Black ales, blue cheeses, ruddy faced good cheer,
Red blooded fellowship and mottled mirth,
The maids who serve up candour and cool beer;
All reasons for clinging to this goodly earth:
For Death marks us the moment of our birth.
Too sanguine have my face and humour been?
Both shall blush and both too soon be green.

And when I beat my heart as I sure must
And lie, martini like, so deathly chilled,
Potato Head Blues blow my mortal dust;
Good tunes live long where man dies unfulfilled.
Yet vow before you lay my rotund build
No mournings promulgated nor be posted:
Cheese and ale be toasted and be toasted.