Monday, July 5, 2004

a poem a day to keep the doctor away

Of Spoon and Fork

Sitting tightly
Waiting.. hardly have the patience
To dance quietly on bowl and plate
Without makeing a single sound
Tasting the sour-sweet of Italian dressing
Or creamy liquid from the soup bowl
Wish I could be spoon and fork
Have a taste from salad to pie
Yet no worries of unwanted calories



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