I WONDER WHERE MY SILVERWARE WENT
Perhaps it fell down in some vent,
or erstwhile helped to pay the rent,
the sterling or the stainless, bent
or used it up to my content!
I counted one ~ the ice tea spoon
it's always last to meet its doom
Oh well, what matches not, resumes
and all utensils find their room!
The forks and spoons are numerous there
it seems, the odd ones go somewhere
that serving spoon of extra width
has ventured from the hot pot's skit!
Perhaps they want a better home
not thrown around, like some disown
not left to soak in dirty foam
and then to same tray's clutter thrown!
Impersonal, I wished I'd known
the heart of serving, smallest hone
and tenderly, knife, spoon and fork
placed side by side ~ a treasured work!
From The Kitchen Poet!