For 1446 Your Choice Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
Little nutmeg will now recite her poem... I sit quietly on your spice shelf, You notice the others, never myself, a humble tin of ground nutmeg. Please hear me. I don't wish to beg. I wait here, nightly, wide awake - please put me in your pie or cake. Thank you, Ms. Nutmeg. Uhoh, it looks like she's doing an encore... Please put me in your cake or pie. If you don't, then I should die, longing to be gently sprinkled by your loving hands, so wrinkled, into a pudding made of rice. Don't you think that would be nice?
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