Holiday Meals Poem by John Shea
Holiday Meals
Here's a poem that will get your goat
But my goat ate my poem.
I'll get him for that
He ate all that i wrote.
I wrote such wounderous words
And all he does is burp
It's absurd.
Now all I can do
Is not let him get my goat
The words that I wrote
Were hastey and few
The goat that I had made such a great stew.
Monday, November 30, 2009
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5/1/2024 5:09:54 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha... I needed that! {: -) Shirley