A Little Bug-gy

The family had gathered for their evening meal that night,

Mom and Dad and siblings, and the youngest—small and slight,

Partway through the meal, that little boy said—from his seat,

“Dad, I was just wondering if bugs are good to eat?”

His father shook his head said,”Son, let’s not discuss that now,

No need to talk of icky things when we are eating chow,

After we are done’s the perfect time for us to talk,

Now eat your supper, Son,” he said. “And after, we’ll take stock.”

“But, Dad!” the boy protested. Said his father, “Son, stop there,

“I’m not discussing bugs while we are eating tasty fare,

“So tuck into you dinner, son, I promise afterward…

“We’ll talk of bugs forever—till your eyes start going blurred!”

They ate their meal in silence; cleaned and tidied up the room,

The boy forgot his question as he swept round with the broom,

And after all was finished, Dad gave his young boy a hug,

And told him, “Son, now is the time to ask about your bugs!”

The boy just shrugged and told his Dad, “It really matters not,

“Cause I’m no longer focused on the answer that I sought…

“There was a reason that I asked that question while we supped…

“You had a bug there in your soup, but you just ate it up!”

Karen asks, "Write for me, please?” 

We write because she's the Bee's Knees!

And we love her, you know that’s true,

So this is what we writers do . . .

We craft a poem based on a theme,

With pencils, sharp, and eyes agleam,

Each month we write and have such fun

We can't wait for another one,

With BUGS this month, how did I do?

Please go and see the others, too!

Baking In A Tornado: Bug Me 

Messymimi’s Meanderings