Who stole the biscuits
‘Please come mother’ was Elizabeth’s brief,
‘For someone in our house’s a thief!’
The biscuit tin was of the vacant kind,
No biscuits could Elizabeth find!
‘It’s Charlie mother, I swear it is ‘
Said Elizabeth all in a tizz!
‘For he’s always got his fingers in,
Places he shouldn’t, like the biscuit tin!’
Down the stairs poor Charlie crept,
As quiet as a mouse he kept
But as he turned the front door handle
Elizabeth screamed ‘there’s the rotten scoundrel!’
As Charlie turned ‘round with a grin,
The Saga of the biscuit tin
Was there for everyone to see
Stuffed in his mouth were biscuits! Three!!
Ordered to turn his pockets out,
Confirmed his guilt beyond any doubt!
For there on the floor eight biscuits fell
It could be ten, who could tell!’
‘Course Charlie couldn’t even speak
His face was red, his knees were weak,
The biscuits lay upon the floor
Upstairs hundreds, maybe even more!
‘We’ll check your bedroom drawers’ said mum
‘That’s fine as long as Elizabeth can come’
Said Charlie who had up his sleeve,
A solution that may earn reprieve.
In Charlie’s drawers nothing could be found
So Elizabeth’s room they were bound,
Elizabeth’s drawers were full to the brim.
At the door stood Charlie with a devious grin!
Copyright © Ronald D Thompson | Year Posted 2019
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