"aspartame" poems - Hello Poetry

The Breakfast Fairies (a humorous treatise) Summoned for to break the fast of sleep-and-dreams that can no longer last, As the clock to noon draws nigh, I happily paddle off to the cabinet Where the cereals that I CHOSE, Since I am now a grownup, faithfully await, calm and in repose. The refrigerator, in nearby proximity, sources a Stony-field yogurt,, A yogurt that I CHOSE, light and sweet with processed fruit, due to the miracle of Aspartame. Distracted, back to the kitchen for Some multi-grain slices to hail and toast, Which I prefer dry (no butter) and ready for anointing with oils of Strawberry jelly. To the table return ready to sound The horn of plenty, When I see the **** Breakfast Fairies have struck yet again! Cousins first to those that reside in nearby dishwasher* The nefarious fairies guard my health tho nobody asked them too! My Crispix, with its malty sweetness, And the ***** aftertaste of sprayed-on "enriched vitamins," has been smothered neath layers of Granola, with cranberries and nuts, Contaminated with a hint of cinnamon. My processed yogurt, vanished, without a trace, replaced by their bacterial cousins from Thrace, which is in Greece, who, tho white, taste like plain yogurt sourpusses, Even when littered with blueberries, Nothing can replace the taste of my Artificial Sweetener! Dry toast has been sheeted and shined neath A tribute of fattening butter, rationalized by a commonality, "Everything is better with butter..." The last indignity is that my coffee, Not the light brown I cherish When kissed by whole milk, Now muddled and muddied by skim milk, so named, Cause they skim off all the taste. Because they are fairies, With fluttering wings, Hasty retreat they beat, But I know where they hide. The next time it be for the morning meal, I will eat it in bed, far from their kitchen hiding places, And celebrate my heroics with original Frosted Flakes and milk, And extra sugar just for spite! The bedroom fairies, living under the pillow, Emerge to beg in iambic pentameter, Won't get nary a bite, Until they they return the poems they stole From my midnight dreams.

0

Jun 1, 2013

Jun 1, 2013 at 12:08 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

The Breakfast Fairies (a humorous treatise)

The Breakfast Fairies (a humorous treatise) Summoned for to break the fast of sleep-and-dreams that can no longer last, As the clock to noon draws nigh, I happily paddle off to the cabinet Where the cereals that I CHOSE, Since I am now a grownup, faithfully await, calm and in repose. The refrigerator, in nearby proximity, sources a Stony-field yogurt,, A yogurt that I CHOSE, light and sweet with processed fruit, due to the miracle of Aspartame. Distracted, back to the kitchen for Some multi-grain slices to hail and toast, Which I prefer dry (no butter) and ready for anointing with oils of Strawberry jelly. To the table return ready to sound The horn of plenty, When I see the **** Breakfast Fairies have struck yet again! Cousins first to those that reside in nearby dishwasher* The nefarious fairies guard my health tho nobody asked them too! My Crispix, with its malty sweetness, And the ***** aftertaste of sprayed-on "enriched vitamins," has been smothered neath layers of Granola, with cranberries and nuts, Contaminated with a hint of cinnamon. My processed yogurt, vanished, without a trace, replaced by their bacterial cousins from Thrace, which is in Greece, who, tho white, taste like plain yogurt sourpusses, Even when littered with blueberries, Nothing can replace the taste of my Artificial Sweetener! Dry toast has been sheeted and shined neath A tribute of fattening butter, rationalized by a commonality, "Everything is better with butter..." The last indignity is that my coffee, Not the light brown I cherish When kissed by whole milk, Now muddled and muddied by skim milk, so named, Cause they skim off all the taste. Because they are fairies, With fluttering wings, Hasty retreat they beat, But I know where they hide. The next time it be for the morning meal, I will eat it in bed, far from their kitchen hiding places, And celebrate my heroics with original Frosted Flakes and milk, And extra sugar just for spite! The bedroom fairies, living under the pillow, Emerge to beg in iambic pentameter, Won't get nary a bite, Until they they return the poems they stole From my midnight dreams.