Trouble With Silverware
The fork was kidnapped by the spoon,
Dragged to spaghetti land.
Oh we hope we will see her, soon.
Because she’s near, at hand.
Now the spoon is the jealous type,
But known to hog the food.
Though it’s rare that you’ll hear him gripe,
While in the eating mood.
To get her back, we’ll set a trap,
Setting a bowl of soup.
We’ll push him in, then with a snap,
Return her to our group.
With a big trap, you’ll reach your goal.
The spoon won’t mind a bit.
He can’t resist a Super Bowl,
For he’ll just watch and sit.
I’m thinking of “spoon” poems for a friendly challenge with my book club. In the process, the “Hey Diddle Diddle” nursery rhyme stuck in my head where the cow jumped over the moon and the dish ran away with the spoon. Well, I extended the spoon’s role a little bit.