As it happened I had one already written which I thought would fit the bill - and as it happened it won third prize...and a certificate.
I was particularly charmed by the certificate as I don't think anyone has given me one for anything since I left school - which was quite a long time ago.
Of course one or two people since have said in the interim that I am certifiable - but that's not quite the same thing...
A change is as good as a rest
AN anteater, whether it’s fat or it’s thin,
pretty much does what it says on the tin:
it eats ants for its dinner and ants for its lunch,
and ants for its supper and snack time and brunch,
and whether it’s Christmas, or Sunday or Easter,
a modest repast, a quick nibble or feast, a
‘n anteater has what an anteater wants –
which is dozens and dozens and dozens of ants.
Except Eric.
Eric said firmly “What really bugs me,
I had insects for breakfast and insects for tea.
I’m not being fussy, I’m not being hasty
I want something to eat but I want something TASTY.
I’ve had red ants and black ants, I’ve eaten them boiled,
I’ve eaten them fried and I’ve eaten them broiled.
I won’t clear my plate. I don’t want more grubs-to-root.
I don’t want them skewered,
I don’t want ant substitute.
I hate ’em.
“I’ve had it with ants. I’ve had more than enough.
I want to try cheeses and gateaux and stuff.
I just want to gorge myself, eat without stopping
on pates and pizzas – and choose my own topping.
I don’t want ants flambé-ed, I don’t want them whole,
or chopped up in pieces, or served in a roll,
I don’t them frittered or in an ant-ball,
or satayed or seared – I don’t want them at all.
NO MORE ANTS.
Or cockroaches.
I really don’t want to try the antsi pasti.
Nope – don’t want spiders.
Nothing with a thorax or more than two eyes.
Chips would be great.
Thank you.