9:42 PM

An Ode to Milk

oh, milk, so yummy and great,
you will make my bones strong like a plate
(a plate made of metal of course
that wouldn't break though rushed by wild boars).
how i love thee, o milk,
for your texture's like silk
and your flavor - delicious and good.
i will drink of your depths, o my bliss,
and will ever praise you for this:
you come from a cow
and i just don't know how
i can drink a half gallon of you
in a four-hour span, but it's true.
you make life more rich and forsooth -
you are strengthening me and my tooth!
(well of course i mean "teeth" but you see
it just won't do the rhyme-deal for me
so i had to say tooth since it rhymed with forsooth)
and now i will stop ode-ing thee.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

"Forsooth!"
Which doth rhymeth with "youth,"
And with which a poem one can uthe
Once one hath quaffed vermouth.

"Forsooth!"
Ain't it - in troofth - not uncouth
to go "poofth!"
without a woofth?

'Tis troofth. Troofth troofth.
without a woofth.

Poofth.

Laur said...

dad, you are WEIRD sometimes... lol...

iconoclasm said...

lol
it always makes me feel good to know that I am not the only one that thinks my parents are odd.