I like reading and watching telly
Sitting around is my hobby
And you can tell that from my belly
Or an apple, or a drum
Call it curvy, call it fat
I prefer to say "rotund!"
And never gain an ounce
But somehow, now I'm older
I have found I've extra "bounce"
I could fill it full of fire
And disappear when viewed side on
Without this spherical spare tyre
I could take my shirt off on the boat
Without being used for ballast
Or worse still - as a float
And look so smart and cool
Instead of belly flopping once
And emptying the pool
And sometimes on the road
I'm getting fitter, and I've stamina
But I still get called "wide load"
- Belly dancing is such fun
And who needs a beat or music
When you've gurgles, growls and hums?
Sometimes my "Royal Paunch"
You can't call me yellow-bellied
I'm not proud - but I do declare I'm staunch.
I'd feel as light as a feather
Alas, I fear it's impossible
As the diet always starts "whenever"
A single course, not a feast
Maybe hang a sign around my neck
Saying "Please don't feed the beast"
Treat it less as a foe
Give it just the right amount
It would maybe shrink and go
I'd also vanquish this double-chin
I should savour every mouthful;
Yes, I really should begin
And get rid of this "Mighty Keg"
And then, when I stare into the mirror
I won't see an "Egg on Legs"!