My thanks to the kind person who took the time to get this thread deleted. In reply I've taken the time to ensure that nobody (who wants to click away from the photo poem and explore the facebook account hosting it) will face the horrific possibility of discovering that I've written other things.
[I should note that the book in question has sold tens of thousands of copies in more than a dozen countries and it's ridiculous to suggest that I would invest the time here (writing a poem, adding photos) on the off chance that of the 7 or 8 readers of the post one might click away from the photos, discover my book, and buy it... thereby earning me about 85 pence]
(with photos)
www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2457954821537.123694.1632136402&type=1
(or without)
You know I love you dearly, your face it is so sweet, now open up your little mouth, it?s time to fucking eat.
The spoon it is approaching, a food-train heaped and yummy, unpress your darling little lips and we?ll shove it in your tummy.
The lion eats the wildebeeste, the cows they eat the grass, so eat your fucking dinner before I shove it up your....
Ask not ?what is this green bit?, please don?t dissect your food, just put it in your tiny mouth, then close it, don?t be rude.
You know I love you dearly, it just the kitchen?s heat, that?s making me so very red, now it?s time to fucking eat.
The fox it eats the rabbit, the owl swallows the mouse, please eat these lovely veggies, before I burn down the house.
This is stuff you loved, one fucking day ago ? how do you change your mind so fast? How am I supposed to know, that what was good on first bite, now heaped upon your plate, became the vilest stuff on earth, the thing that you most hate?
The kitchen is my cavern, where I boil my witch?s brew, with eye of newt and leg of toad, and bad things just for you.
You know I love you dearly, I?ve put that on repeat, but baby open wide now, it?s time to fucking eat.
I try to buy the good stuff and load a healthy plate, but all you eat is sugar, and I put on the weight. You?re buzzing like a humming bird, you?re humming like a fly, you ping around the room dear, as you hit that sugar high.
You liked it in the food mall, you liked it in the box, you liked as you tipped it out and poured the milk on top. But now that it sits glistening, and heaped up in your bowl, you say you?d rather eat a goat - a raw one like a troll.
The pots and pans I clatter, and I make a good pretence, but nothing good will come of it, you?re too solid in defense.
You know I love you dearly, but I must admit defeat, for in the end we both know, you?re not going to fucking eat.