The PIE
While being home alone one day,
With “Honey-Do's” I’ll not mention.
I ventured towards the ice box,
For something to ease my tension.
To my joy and shocked amazement,
To think that I should spy.
Way back amongst the green stuff,
An intact Chocolate PIE.
I grabbed a spoon from out the drawer,
And milk from off the shelf.
I plopped down at the table,
And preceded to stuff myself.
I dove into the Meringue and Chocolate,
With such a frantic pace.
There was chocolate on the table,
On the floor and on my face.
Just as I finished, the door flew open.
Need I tell you who walked in?
And there I set with spoon in hand,
With chocolate on my chin.
Her eyes turned red, her voice so shrill,
That glasses began to break.
Her head spun on her shoulders,
My knees began to shake.
My only thought was just to run,
And I headed for the door.
Then a skillet hit me behind the head,
And I can’t remember more.
So tonight I’m sleeping on the couch,
And there’s no need to lie.
The couch is lumpy and a little short,
( But it sure was yummy PIE...)
P.N.
