Consider the worst that can happen to you:
A lingering June-July-August case of the flu,
Or waking one morn and you can’t do No. 2
Finding your 20-year-old is selling home brew
Your parakeet flies into your mulligan stew,
A summons from the IRS, you haven’t a clue
Your thumb and index finger meet super glue
The last three checks you wrote over-drew,
Your turn to speak, and you've missed your cue
You haven’t the faintest notion what to do!
Written July 4, 2022
Nowadays, it seems that most dinners are served with a sprig of parsley.
Mister Cordon Bleu, I'd prefer that it be used rather sparsely!
I suppose it makes a fanciful garnish, but that is open to debate.
The stuff serves no useful purpose and just clutters up my plate!
Should I find a sprig of parsley embellishing my plate, it I will eschew,
(Tho' I reckon I could brook it for flavoring my mulligan stew!)
'Twould make a wonderful greenery for a corsage or flowery display,
But Mister Cordon Bleu, please omit it from my plate, I pray!
Should I nibble on the stuff, it wouldn't add to my nourishment.
Its only redeeming value as far as I know is use as a garnishment.
Spare me that twig of vapid parsley, if you will, Mister Cordon Bleu,
And feed it to some deserving wapiti in the local zoo!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
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