The dinner plates were sparkling bright,
With crystal glasses all in place,
The chandelier shone with dimmed light,
And white napkins were edged in lace.
The knife and spoon were simply thrilled,
At the way the table was set;
But, because gravy had been spilled,
The blue bowl was very upset.
“This dinner party has been spoiled,”
Whined the bowl, half-filled with hot bisque,
“And the tablecloth is so soiled,
The stain will not come out with Wisk.”
“Oh, who cares?” responded the fork,
“Move the platter over a bit,
To cover the stain with roast pork,
So we all can get on with it.”
Then the bowl was no longer blue,
And not one single guest complained,
Unaware, till the meal was through,
That linen cloth was slightly stained.
© By Richard McCusker (email@example.com)