Saga of the Green Peas
Along the baseboard in a small kitchen
there is a tiny hole, the perfect size to go
unnoticed, perfect for a secret hideaway.
Little twin girls imprisoned at the table
not allowed to leave unless those cold
olive green peas are completely gone!
Canned peas, that had a bit of the flavor
of the tin can infused into them, pushed
around the plate in a marble shoot.
When is she going to leave the kitchen,
quit watching, stop repeating, "eat every one!"
Salty tears dropping on the plate, incapable
of adding any flavor as an hour passes and
little heads are laying on the table beside
the plate with those cursed tiny vegetables
staring back with their small green eyes.
She has to take a trip to the toilet, this must
be timed just right...half the peas leave the plates
and are scooted into the tiny hole in the wall.
She returns, unaware of the subterfuge.
Admonishment causes more tears and little
voices pleading, "they're almost gone". "Not good
enough, finish them or you stay here all night!"
A guardian angel makes the phone ring and she
leaves to answer it. Two little girl's plates quickly
converge upon the tiny hole that gobbles up the
last of those dreaded cold green peas.
She returns and the ordeal is finally over, with
her none the wiser, until a few weeks pass and
she keeps trying to find the smelly odor coming
from the kitchen. She follows her nose to the
secret hideaway exposing the rotted peas.
Infuriation welds up within and then out comes
the razor strap and a painful dance ensues.
© Connie Marcum Wong
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
