A few things happened while I was away: I gave birth to a couple of fine people, switched jobs a few times, moved from Massachusetts back to my birth state of Tennessee. Despite these minor upheavals, my love of rhyming and wordplay hasn't changed a bit. So, here I am, rhyming again!
I decided to revive this blog, in part, so I can participate fully in Poetry Friday. I wrote the poem below in response to a recent Poetry Friday challenge—roll a set of metaphor dice and write a poem inspired by your metaphor.
I don't have metaphor dice, so I used an online metaphor generator. The metaphor that popped up was:
Courage is a spoon
Makes total sense, right?
Below is my somewhat courageous, perhaps foolhardy attempt to tackle this prompt. Thank you for reading...and for ignoring all the dust around here!
Breakfast Battle
The dining room table looked bright and alive
Awaiting the breakfast guests soon to arrive.
But as minutes ticked by and no chairs were filled,
The mood in the room went from cordial to chilled.
Wishing the morning would move along quicker,
The flatware grew sullen and started to bicker.
"You think you're so sharp!" the spoon called to the knife.
"Like carving a ham is the whole point of life.
Look at you—smug with your glimmering blade.
You might think you're a menace, but I'm not afraid!"
"Did someone say point?" the fork asked with snide glee.
"Why, I have FOUR points...or occasionally three.
Can you spear an egg? Poke a crispy potato?
No, that is MY job. Am I great? I should say so!"
"Whatever," the spoon sulked. "You're not all that hot.
Can you handle cereal? Well, I should say not.
And remember the oatmeal? We had it last week.
Faced with that challenge, you looked pretty meek."
"Quit causing trouble!" the knife chided the spoon.
"I just heard some footsteps. We'll have a meal soon."
And, indeed, someone plunked down a few bowls and plates
...along with a shiny, new tableware mate.
"How's it going?" the spork grinned. "It's lovely to meet.
Now, if you'll excuse me, there's grapefruit to eat."
