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Their eyes were glowing brightly, their breath was steaming hot.
They gripped their knives and forks and spoons, as they raced against the clock.
The line was growing longer, time was running out,
Soon the hungry crowd began to push, and then to shove and shout.
They licked their lips and sighed, as they gazed upon the food,
That soon would fill their bellies if the line would ever move.
The lunchtime it was slipping, fading fast away
As the clock upon the wall ticked the seconds away.
Then the line it started moving, the people pushed and shoved,
Grabbing for each morsel, like manna from above.
Soon they all were sitting, gobbling every bite,
Filling each and every mouth, with all the food in sight.
Soon the time had all run out, the crowd had gone away.
The workers of the lunchroom stared out in dismay; for food was here,
And food was there, not a clean spot anywhere.
So you see my friends that this is the tale,
Of the charge of the lunch brigade.

Learn more about this author, L. J. Stroud.
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