I wrote this for my mother several years ago, but every Autumn, when the weather starts to get cool, trees change color, and we start thinking about pumpkins, Halloween and burning leaves, I pull it out and read it again. Enjoy…
Mom’s Marshmallow Poem
There was an old lady who loved to roast “puffs”,
So she piled up some things and set fire to the stuff.
She stirred it and poked it, then found her a wire,
And with a big grin, held the “puff” to the fire.
It sizzled and fluffed and begin to turn brown,
But the little lady backed away with a frown.
“I’m smokin’ my eyebrows and scorchin’ my face.
Get a move on, Marshmallow, I’ll cook at this pace.”
Then she set it back into the fire with care,
Still doing her best not to fire up her hair!
With the “puff” golden brown at the end of her stick,
She scarfed it right up and gave her fingers a lick.
Then walking away with a prance and a swing,
She said to my camera, “Man, I love these darn things!”
Thesignpaintersdaughter 