One Dozen Eggs
April 12, 2009
April 12, 2009
The resident eggspert
in egg-detection
felt eggstremely
perplexed.
Everywhere she
eggsplored,
she came up
empty.
The desk?
The beds?
The bookshelves
and treasure chests?
Rejection,
dejection,
and, without eggception,
a lack of detection.
Eggstraordinary, really.
Even though the weather
was eggstra terrible, she ventured
into the garden.
No eggs under veggies:
fledgling lettuce and peppers
left everything eggsposed,
eggcept eggs.
Even the deck was bereft.
When she was ready
to surrender,
head west,
and end up
an eggceptionally
depressed
eggspatriate,
eggziled forever
in the desolate desert,
she had an eggcellent idea:
Check the schedule.
Egg-detection was on
the next day’s agenda!
3 comments:
First, this is ridiculous. Second, in powells today it occurred to me that you should write a lovely poem and then I can illustrate it and then Poof! A childrens book. On mother in laws iPhone, sorry for lazy punctuation.
I'm game. But wait - I don't write lovely poems. Can you do ridiculous?
Ridiculous is even better.
Post a Comment