No Warm Overs
She doesn't want warmed over poems,
Just as Grandpa and his pie.
Much like my darling grandma did
I'll try hard to comply.
Conceived, revolved, molded with love
Poems and pies are much alike.
I did well in her other one today.
How often can luck strike?
So here it is dear Constance,
All set and ready to bake.
It may not be a masterpiece,
But I've not the time to take.
This poem has had no time to rise,
Nor to bubble and mature.
Four out of ten already in,
I must post it now for sure.
For Poems Have Wings contest took 5th place
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2010
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