From A Pea's Point Of View

I’m a little Garden Pea

Sat on a dinner plate,

As the fork comes down towards me

I contemplate my fate.

Phew! The fork’s just missed me

And gone right for my brother,

I roll across the dinner plate

And shuffle up to mother.

I’m drowning in the gravy!

Oh dear, I cannot swim,

An avalanche of mash falls down

My future’s looking dim.

The fork hunts round the dinner plate

I hear its muffled scraping,

My future’s looking very glum,

It seems there’s no escaping.

I have a really good idea

But I don’t know if I’m able;

I swerve around the dishes

And jump straight off the table.

I roll across the floor tiles

In one I find a crack,

And that’s where I shall hide

In my shower-proof green mac.