Salad, But True
Deep in the night, my tongue took flight,
Straight to my wisened old tooth’s bed.
Tracing the tooth's bite with circular might,
Where gum and tooth are wed.
A sharpness was there, tongue beware,
The tooth was a sharp as chipped granite.
Try as my tongue might--not tonight,
I couldn't dislodge that damn sleep bandit.
I worried that wart, until my tongue gave out.
And succumbed to the sleep of the damned.
Working and dreaming, planning and scheming,
On how to get the damn thing wiggled out.
To my dismay, my tongue kept wandering that way,
And wore itself bloody to tip—not hip.
Round and round in my head, by tongue I’d be bled,
In the morning, drip, drip, I'd be dead.
Sleep found its way and saved the night that day,
I passed out from my own frenzied dread.
Near morning it popped up like a pimple.
A popcorn hull dimple, the size of a loaf of bread.
Bet you thought it was a crouton, instead?
Copyright 2003 © Ronald W. Hull
9/1/03
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Reindeer
lol love the sleep bandit part!
clever!
Vesna
than I've wanted these past few days
rather graphic.. haha
well done none the less
Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu :o)
poem huh? LOL :0>
hahah lol this was good I wish I had seen it earlier... First real laugh in two days... Yes I kept waiting for the salad...
Peg
lol....Someone is in
a silly mood today..
I so enjoy humor writes...
Trixie :)
thought oh, no
a pun
thought do i want
the agrevation???
i mean a pun in the morning ...
but i read on
glad i did
still chuckling
good write . . .
john+
In Spirit,
Bear
I'm going to watch my next salad..Great stuff Ron.....ty, Dani