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Jimmy sits restlessly on a cane bottom chair at the kitchen table
   In grandma’s kitchen smelling the fresh sweet aroma of her cooking and baking
         What is that beautiful scent his nose has detected as he gazes towards 
                        the counter where  sits a plain old fashion green
                 almost round cookie jar with a raised word “Cookies” on it
                 In deep studious thought he slumps staring and wondering 
                            about what kind of cookies  are in the jar
                 With drool at the corner of his mouth, he sees visions of 
                            Chocolate Chip and Peanut Butter cookies 
                         that grandma took first place at the county fair
                     Just one cookie would satisfy this rumbling in my belly
                         But mom says no that it would spoil my dinner
                 Maybe its those yummy Gingersnaps with a little brown sugar 
                                              that are so heavenly
                It could be Oatmeal Raisin, Sugar, or Lemon Macaroon Cookies 
                     they are all wonderful I sure would love to have just one 
                                           Grandma wouldn’t mine 
                       she lets me have anything because I’m her favorite
                                If I snuck just one, nobody would know
                  Mother would,  she always does when I do something wrong
                    It must be the expression on my face that gives me away
                      My dog always licks up any crumbs I drop on the floor
                                                So it can’t be that 
                             What's wrong with the clock it must be broken,
             the little hand hasn’t moved and the big hand is moving like molasses
                          Molasses, I love Molasses cookies could it be them
                  Oh, what wouldn’t I give for a couple of scrumptious cookies
            I wish that little voice in my head would quit telling me to get a cookie
                               Even a Macaroon would satisfy my hunger 
                                                  I hear footsteps
          “No, Mother I am not getting into the cookie jar, I am washing my hands
                        and I haven't thought about the cookies at all.”


11/25/2014 by  roper
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