Mama says my very best friend (whose name is Mr. A),
Stays inside my mouth year round
and prods me to eat all day.
His real name's Mr. Appetite (he's sometimes rude and impolite),
he sits on my tooth, and to his right,
pass all the foods I've had that night.
Pickled peppers, green snow peas,
meat and pepper that makes me sneeze,
mango, pear, an old, dry grape (I didn't eat the rest on my plate),
lemon pie, some broccoli,
( I started dessert too early, see),
carrots dipped in ranch half way,
the brand of Root beer drunk by Claude Monet,
spaghetti squash, a slice of meat,
an old red beet.
Some blue berries that I had chosen
(which we found quite thoroughly frozen),
some cherry pie and chocolate cake,
but now I fear that I must wait,
for the cookies that mom baked,
for I now have a stomach ache,
and I know that mom was right,
I really do have an appetite.
~This is a poem I wrote for a contest at the library. It made the top five of 177 entries. :)