Good morning! This poem is the product of an imagination but newly awoken. So it's extra...special. i need coffee. on a positive note, the mail finally came again yesterday, and i saw ASPHALT! yes, ASPHALT! the roads are no longer one giant sheet of snow and ice...although now that it's early morning, they're probably all nice and icy again. but it's uplifting to know that there's an end in sight! "Here comes the sun and i say, it's all right, it's okay." and "the sun will come out tomorrow!" because today once again has a chance of snow. alas and alack. alright, no more rambling, just poetry! here goes:
Pamela Pancake was always on edge,
For some other breakfast food threatened to wedge
Itself right between her and her husband (a man):
A piece of wheat toast topped with raspberry jam.
"'If not for the jam, she'd be boring as...bread!"
She moaned as she mused, "Oh, I wish I were dead!
I've seen how he looks at her, seen how she flirts--
I wish I could topple her into the dirt!"
But Pamela Pancake was really quite kind,
So instead of do anythingthat unrefined,
She dressed herself up in nutella and fruit,
With a sprinkling of cinnamon-sugar to boot.
Her husband came home, looking famished and beat.
"Why, babe, you look good enough, frankly, to eat!"
"I'll get you some toast, dear," she said with a smile...
I guess I was wrong, she can plot and beguile!
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