David Crandall Poet Sonnet

The Biscuit and the Yam

A wee little biscuit softly implored
a gruff, hard-hearted and tuberous yam,
"oh, why, my dear friend, must you be so hard?"
and the yam replied, "I am what I am!"

"In my kitchen, I will not have this chat",
I said, as, into the oven they went.
"Now I'm soft", said yam, an hour after that.
"But I'm hard", I heard from the oven vent,  

"...if, my dear yam, I might beg your pardon,
while this heat made you warm up and get soft,
I had to wait, and burned up to harden",
said the biscuit as the black smoke did waft.

Poem idea? Don't make my mistake,
or you will burn your house down while you bake.

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Linda Alice Fowler September 22, 2024 at 1:19 PM Kitchen physics my friend. Kitchen physics. elle :) David Crandall September 22, 2024 at 2:40 PM haha - I wonder if Werner Heisenberg ever looked into this yam and biscuit paradox?

Hilda Greenhough September 20, 2024 at 3:30 PM Lol. I recently did this to a biscuit. Teeth couldn't break it. I really enjoy this hilarious story David Crandall September 20, 2024 at 4:07 PM Thanks Hilda. Once, when I was a kid, my grandma was making biscuits, and I asked if she could put a little one in for me. She said "no", it will get burnt. I insisted, and it came out black. She said I didn't have to eat it, but I did anyway, out of stubbornness.