lickety jackblog

Friday Morning Poetry!*

*Being an Ode to His Toaster Oven, in the Style of the Sonnets of Petrarch (that's right Snavely, PETRARCH!)

Your job, though simple, brings great happiness,
That morning smell of burning toast, of dawn,
My Toaster Oven brings the new day on.
Where you honed your craft I cannot guess.
Your womb bursts forth with warmth at my request
To cook me hotdogs, warm my old won tons,
To bake a chicken breast, all whilst I fawn
And swoon, because for cooking, you're the best.
So glow, you orange bars, to warm my heart,
And cook the food, Italian, Greek Chinese
All carried out with grace from god above.
Fear not Toaster, for never shall we part
But Always seek for food prepared with ease
And sprinked with a burn-ed crust of love.

lovely friday to all.

and Friends was devastating. just wolfing.

dan

posted by dan @ 10:34 AM