A Poem for Tuesday

I’ve been on a trip down to see my sister Cyberspace Sarah.  They have computers where she lives, but I am afraid my blog wasn’t on my mind.  You see there’s no snow down there.  I was blinded and bewildered.  I was confused when there wasn’t anything to put my boots into.

And while you try to figure out exactly how crazy and confused I really am, here is a poem about toast.
Morning Toast
Doris I. Bateman

My toast has such a crunchable sound
As I bite my piece that’s all buttered and browned.
Though my egg is pure silver and gold in my dish,
And my orange and cocoa quite all one could wish
Still, I know that at breakfast the thing I like most
Is my buttered, brown, munchable, crunchable toast!

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