Mister Pot Holder
I have held my last pot of hot soup
I've come to the end of my threads
Befraggled and muffed
Bedraggled and fruffed
A raddled cloth corpse that's dead
Frayed so soft and shabby
As the cotton boll that bore me
Worn to a frazzle
I have lost all my dazzle
Faded and haggard and tatty
So tattered in my casing
My splayed stuffing is facing
The dog who has chewed
What was left!
May 11, 2020
The Potholder Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Copyright © Lonna Blodgett | Year Posted 2020
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