I am questioning my desire for cheesy sourdough bread.
I’m wondering if I want something else instead.
I’ve discovered I’m a poet of the kitchen,
And now I’m just itchin’
To try out my rhymes just to see
If food mixed with poetry makes me free.
Refrigerator pickles
Makes me feel fickle
And toast with no jam is just sad.
The chef of my house is my dad.
Perhaps I’ll have him cook me up stuff
Make my eggs super fluff…
y.
Hmm.
Maybe I can’t rhyme.
I may just stick with rosemary and thyme.
Cute and delicious! :L
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Wai thank you! I was just talking to my dad about what I should eat as a snack and this was born. Lemme tell you, there are so many kitchen foods that have absolutely no rhymes to them. I know. This poem has like forty three rough drafts of trail-off sentences with no rhymes. XD
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That was one of the best poems I’ve ever read! You don’t need to be three layers deep to make a poem good!
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Aw thanks! I’m so glad you like it. I was chuckling while I was typing it out. Sometimes a little sillyness just makes everything better! 🙂
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This is true! haha!
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Yummy!
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