French Onion Soup
I first ordered French Onion Soup
while dating a new girl I’d met
I did this to seem worldly-wise;
This is something I wouldn’t advise;
It’s a soup that plays hard to get!
It arrived and threw me a loop;
For a start, it’s covered in bread
sealed with some hot molten cheese.
I stared long and thought, holy-jeez
then picked up a spoon with some dread.
I felt like a big nincompoop;
I stabbed at the cheese, on it’s raft
which made its escape from the bowl;
flew totally out of control
like some sort of alien craft.
I honestly tried to regroup
with the girl, with cheese on her lap
who, by then, was sobbing away;
I said, “Would you like some sorbet?”
She quietly called me a sap!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
