Favourite comfort food, probably fish and chips, but they must be proper, and eaten outside, preferably by the sea. My wife is an excellent cook almost everything she cooks is comforting, especially after a hard day at the D.I.Y shop, where I help out. We have some interesting names for our meals e.g creepy crawly pie, pastery bacon thing, bacony egg, fishy chip etc. You can probly work out what most of them are except the creepy crawly pie, basically sausage meat plait We are struggling with the comfort bit at the moment, these hot nights, and me having my arm strapped up, so here’s a different slant on the prompt.

Bed of Letuce.

I lay on a bed of lettuce, my feet in salad cream, my head on a soft boiled egg, at least thats in my dream.

But in reality it’s different the duvet hot and sweaty, the mattress to buy a new one I’d have to be J.Paul Getty.

We have the windows open, to let in some fresh air, we can hear the riff raff out there as they begin to swear.

We wake up in the morning, unrested and not our best, it’s not a bit  like those adverts with the beds they put to test.

One day we’ll buy a new bed, if enough we have to spend, but by the time we can afford it we may have reached our final end.

Words by Meadowhead Bard.