Ages ago, there was a comment on this blog about breakfast. So, in honor of an early comment, here's Cole Porter on breakfast (from Eat, Drink, and Be Merry, a fine little book of poems on food and drink).
SUNDAY MORNING BREAKFAST TIME
Here's to the piping porridge,
Here's to the biscuits hot,
Here's to the java
Flowing like lava
Out of the coffee pot.
Here's to the eggs and bacon,
Here's to the waffle unique,
And here's and here's
Three rousing cheers
For the best meal of the week!
For it's Sunday morning breakfast time,
The time all men adore!
Why don't the poets go into rhyme
And rave about it more?
For only then can a man forget
The sweat and worries of his bane-
Ful lot as he calmly enjoys his toast
And most of Arthur Brisbane.
Breakfast time on other days
Means bolting at fever heat,
But on Sunday morning, there's the time
When a men has time to eat -- and eat,
When a man has time to. . .
[Cakewalk]
. . . Breakfast is served.
For more on this book, click here . . . or here.
