Caren Krutsinger Poet Rhyme

King's Concoctions were 'n

the king felt thwarted in his own kitchen
he was not fancy, but his concoctions were ’n
the cook said to her sous chef, he is a rogue!
in her unusual jibber jabber, an Irish brogue

the king knew he was entitled, he had been so at birth
He straightened his crown, and bowed to the earth
a loudspeaker on the wall laughed at his pompous ways
he baked a treasure in his scones, in pinks and grays

the cook tried not to laugh, she had to hold on to the sink
The sous chef was yelling “those scones are gray and pink!”
the king’s cheeks were all red, he ran from the place
Serves him right said the cook, making fun of His Grace.

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