“Where is my mince pie?”
Said the slightly hungry man.
“I really might like a bite!”
He had, if the truth were known,
Just eaten a huge flan.
“With custard and cream…
and a spoon – I would like it soon.”
He paused, awaiting the delicious treat… a filling sweet
But, nothing arrived before his place
And the smile of anticipation
Fell from his face.
“You make lovely mince pies!”
He called with a grin.
A silence then, did begin…
Which was only broken
By his whispered addendum:
He considered the idea that he was destined to be disappointed –
Just in case that turned out to be the case –
So, that he wouldn’t be ‘that’ disappointed if it did.