Mommy used to make me,
some tasty pumpkin stew.
Then I wanted more of it,
but what could mommy do?

I went down to the market,
I walked through to the store.
I ran down every aisle,
every shop and shelf explored.

But nowhere could I find,
any pumpkins sweet or sour.
And that meant that there wouldn't be
any stew to be devoured.

So I walked back home,
tired, sad, and defeated.
I knew all of the tasty
stew was depleted.

Until mommy opened a brown,
small, dusty and hidden drawer.
And there I saw the greatest pumpkins,
hidden beneath our cellar.

I munched and gobbled the
tasty and thick, amazing pumpkin stew.
Then I wanted more of it,
but what could mommy do?

poem copyright (c) 2017 - Hive account@outspoken on Steemit
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