Hold the Peas
Baby doesn't like the 'peases'.
She spits them out, as she pleases.
I still have that childish vice
But spitting peas isn't nice.
Avoiding them is hard to do.
They're in the pot pie and the stew.
So, I pick them out one by one
But pea-picking is not fun.
Give me a break. I cannot take
To even smell them on the make.
Cold in salad or piping hot,
Hold the peas. Peas porridge, not!
January 11, 2018
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