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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 23:53:16 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 160774
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => BREAD
[time] => 2010-06-25 04:11:43
[hometext] => I wrote this after a bad attempt at making bread. The whole poem only took about 10 minutes
[bodytext] => Went shopping last week with the idea in my head That I will put on my menu some soup and some bread, I get these ideas and they sound really great, So I buy all the stuff like a bull at the gate Now the soup that is easy its out of a can But homemade bread…. That sounds like a plan So I got down the breadmaker and blew off the dust Gathered the makings without any fuss Read the directions and measured it all out, Now this should be easy there isn’t a doubt, Its been quite a while since I made my last batch Was it when the first or second baby had started to hatch, Dreams with the smell of fresh bread filling my nook I settled down to tease all my friends on Face book, “Ding” goes the timer, I hurried out quick Only to discover the very best house brick, Now not to be beaten, my tastebuds all teased, I’ll just give it one more try, it should be a breeze An old friend on the phone had told me the clue I was so sure now I knew what exactly to do She said if I followed her advice to the letter, My bread would certainly turn out a lot better So attentive I was in all I did With a silent prayer I closed down the lid Two hours went by engrossed in my thinking Started blaming the dog for the terrible stinking Then all of a sudden something attracted my eye A tall waft of smoke trailing up to the sky, “It would be perfect” my friend said over the phone But I tell you this loaf had a mind of its own The Blob was a movie with many a scare But the way my bread acted it was Blob 2 ..with flair. It oozed and it gushed, and it certainly was light And trust me, it was certainly going to give a good fight My bread maker had dough where it really shouldn’t be I poked and I prodded but it wouldn’t come free. So tomorrow my birds will feed on the lump Then I will throw the useless machine to the dump I will drag out the loaf I have in the ice chest, And thank the good Lord that the Baker knows best [comments] => 4 [counter] => 245 [topic] => 7 [informant] => jonquilcottage [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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