Old Mike, he’s quite the ornery guy,
But if you ever ask him why,
Rather than his ways decry,
‘Tis likely he’d just not reply.
Mike’s wife, upon the other hand,
Is someone who is really grand,
Tries very hard to understand,
And to placate his demands.
One day, she thought the time had come,
She’d try to please her crabby chum.
To make him happy, up, she’d drum,
The perfect breakfast. Every crumb.
His least demands, she would regard,
She’d maybe catch the man off guard.
Some notes, she made upon a card,
When he said, “Eggs. One soft, One hard.”
She cooked and stirred, then did present,
The food for which her spouse had sent,
Thereby, so hoping to prevent,
Their usual morning argument.
So carefully, she did array
His lovely breakfast on a tray,
He frowned, then nodded. Happy day!
She finally had got her way!
But all her efforts, he’d discard,
When he spoke, the old blowhard,
And said (With verve. And disregard),
“Dear wife, you boiled the wrong one hard!”
With me, Old Mike’d face no backlash
O’er his head, no dishes smash,
No screaming and no teeth to gnash.
I’d just firmly place him in the trash!
Here, Monday's are for poetry,
And me. You find that you agree,
Then go to visit them and see.
And you have till midnight to vote for my book cover, Daughter of Ishmael!
Please, please go and cast your vote. I'll be soooo grateful!
http://indtale.com/polls/creme-de-la-cover-contest
