The Life Of A Cupcake
They put me in the oven to bake.
Me a deprived and miserable cake.
Feeling the heat I started to bubble.
Watching the others I knew I was in trouble
A slippery sloppery slipping snail
Slithered slimed and slid on the floor
Feeling hurried harried hungry and helpless
As starlings screeched spiraled and saw
That slippery sloppery slipping snail
Who slithered slimed and slid on the floor
A fluttering of feathers fell frighteningly fast
Meant that slippery sloppery slipping snail
Who slithered slimed and slid was no more.
The Precocious Teapot
The teapot whistled at the lovely young pot
She came to a boil at this unfortunate shot
When the pan saw what happened, he began to sizzle
The pot was his cousin and it made him grizzle
The faucet joined in with a whoosh of its water
It seems that the pot was his only daughter
The teapot was humbled and expressed his regret
It was an unfortunate gaffe he’d rather forget
Friends are like chocolate cake
You can never have too many.
Chocolate cake is like heaven -
Always amazing you with each taste or feeling.
Chocolate cake is like life with so many different pieces.
Chocolate cake is like happiness, you can never get enough of it.
Summertime is Here
My tongue is a piece of sandpaper
I’m dissolving into a puddle
I want to dive into a snowdrift
Though I’m sure that would befuddle
Open me up, my organs are cooked
I think I’m now well done
You can fry an egg upon my brow
As I melt away in the sun!
A fragile winter butterfly
Flutters from the sky
So soft and yet her heart
Is cold and made of ice
But if I warm it
She will melt and die
A light exists in Spring By Emily Dickinson
A light exists in Spring
Not present on the year
At any other period—
When March is scarcely here
The sun went away
The sky went black
Up came the wind
I fell on my back
It started to rain
I began to sink
Then I lifted my head
And took a drink
I perked myself up
And said "please don't cry"
And wiped off my petals
Until they were dry
The clouds soon parted
And out came the sun
The beauty in me
Has only begun
Disappointments by Vivian Gilbert Zabel
Every life has a room
where memories are stored:
A box of special occasions here,
Shelves of shared laughter there.
But back in the shadows
Lurks a trunk locked tight,
Not to be opened and searched.
There hide disappointments
Which darken every heart
His body was tubular
And as he passed the wharf
And snapped at a flat-fish
That was dead and floating.
And I saw the flash of a white throat,
And a double row of white teeth,
And eyes of metallic grey,
Hard and narrow and slit.
Then out of the harbour,
With that three-cornered fin
Shearing without a bubble the water
He swam—That strange fish,
Tubular, tapered, smoke-blue,
Part vulture, part wolf,
Part neither—for his blood was cold
If sorrow cloaks the surface of your soul
And chills the warmth that turns your wishes cold,
Unchain the hidden anguish in your hold,
Releasing tethered truths that must be told