Poems

Powdered  Sugar

I hurried in the restaurant
to have a special treat.
I ordered pancakes covered with
my favorite thing to eat.

It wasn’t maple syrup,
not molasses, honey, jam.
I said, “Put heaps and piles
of powdered sugar on it Ma’am.”

The food arrived completely coated
with the tasty fluff.
I cut a bite and raised my fork
to gobble up the stuff.

Instead, I goofed – I breathed it in
and quickly had to cough.
My choking blasted
all the luscious
pancake topping off.

I blew a powdered sugar storm
that flurried ‘round the room.
It snowed on the linoleum –
the waitress got a broom.

It fell on heads like dandruff flakes.
It frosted every light.
It powdered babies’ bottoms,
and turned chocolate milk to white.

I blinked, and rubbed my cloudy eyes,
and sneezed a snow-white booger.
I saw my pancakes, and I said,
“I need more powdered sugar!”

Sydnie Meltzer Kleinhenz

Table  Manners

If I were to make up the etiquette rules,
it wouldn’t be too impolite
to reach for the biggest dessert on the tray
and gobble it down in one bite;
to beat on my brother with drumsticks;
eat corn on the cob with my toes;
stand up on my chair and shout, “Food fight!”
hang string beans right out of my nose.

I’d say it’s okay to blow bubbles in milk;
to dribble and slobber and slurp;
to yackety-yak with my mouth full of food,
then swallow and let out a burp.
It wouldn’t be crude to bounce meatballs,
to hide all the veggies I hate,
stick bubble gum under the table,
or lick all my fingers and plate.

And after I made up the etiquette rules
there’s one other thing I would do.
Whenever my parents are eating,
I’d make them obey the rules, too.

Joan Horton

My  Robot

I have a robot
Do the dishes,
Phone my friends,
Bone the fishes.

Rub my back,
Scrub the floors;
Mop the kitchen,
Open doors.

Do my homework,
Make my bed;
Catch my colds,
Scratch my head.

Walk the dog,
Feed the cats;
Hit my sister,
Knit me hats.

 

 

 

 

 

Do my laundry,
Clean my room;
(Boy, he’s handy
With a broom).

Comb my hair,
Darn my socks;
Find my lost toys,
Wind my clocks.

Mix me milk shakes,
Fix my bike;
Buy me all
The things I like.

Grill me hot dogs,
Guard my home –
Who do you think
Wrote this poem?

Douglas Florian