The boiling pot, sat on the cold stove with a jolt. All waiting for dinner, the seven A.M. clock was a winner. We ate to our fill, I am so hungry I could kill. The dishes are all done, the sink is filled so lets run.
Date Written: 9/8/2021
Nonsense Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
Copyright © Paula Goldsmith | Year Posted 2021
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment