Clockwork

Just three hours, to the dot,
From when my breakfast ends,
Some hunger pangs begin
And their intensity ascends.

It doesn’t matter what I eat,
Though I have my routine;
My body runs like clockwork
Or a well-maintained machine.

Assuaging all that grumbling
Doesn’t take a three-course meal;
A little snack is quite enough
To set an even keel.

Three hours hence, it starts again
And so I nosh or graze.
A token nibble shows who’s boss;
My stomach then obeys.

I’m fortunate my hunger pangs
Are never that severe,
For after several morsels
They just seem to disappear.