I opted for a healthy breakfast today

the oatmeal was thick and steamy

coating my shiny spoon like glue

it tasted rather bland

not exactly the breakfast of champions

my mind wandered to others eating oatmeal today

jail time in England is called porridge

in honor of the unsavory oatmeal dish served behind bars

imagining the inmates morning ritual

overcrowded cells reeking of stale sweat

I took another spoonful of my porridge

it tasted distinctly unpleasant

my next spoonful of porridge was my get out of jail card

I was back in my kitchen as a free man

it did not work for long

Soviet dissidents are fed prison oatmeal called gruel

how apt that it rhymes with cruel

with my next spoonful of gruel

I could feel the biting cold of a Gulag hard labor camp

my muscles ached in sympathy for the overworked political prisoners

my next mouthful of lumpy gruel tasted bitter

how do I escape from this Gulag

a spot of time travel was called for

my mind wandered to ancient times

skilligalee is an old Anglo Saxon oatmeal dish

I plunged my shiny spoon into my skilligalee

imagining those who ate exclusively with wooden spoons

living a simple life off the land and seas

I could see the rolling hills of England

green fields and cloudy skies

my last spoonful of skilligalee tasted like English rain

I checked outside and the sun was still shining

thankfully there were no bars on my kitchen window