Opening the cupboard,

Jars of jam, Tins of soup,

Pasta shapes and lentils,

And the odd spaghetti hoop.

Tea bags, an assortment,

Jar of coffee, ovaltine,

But I am looking, searching,

And so far have not yet seen.

A packet of digestives,

Some forgotten shredded wheat,

Still no finding what I’m after,

Something gooey, something sweet.

He’s hidden it, the chocolate,

Somewhere lurking out of sight,

No, he says, he didn’t,

We ate it all last night.