My breakfast. MINE.

Maple syrup, butter melting
Into golden squares
Crispy golden waffles tasty.
Thank you, I won't share.

Juicy sausage, crispy bacon,
Two yummies made of pork.
Keep your hands off of my plate,
Or I will stab you with my fork.

Perhaps I need another coffee,
Dark roast tastes oh so good.
Or perhaps you should get your own,
Back off from my food.

An Ode to my Keurig

I am resurrecting this blog, not to talk about parenting, or training, or anything.  I am going to use it to write bad poetry.

My BFF asked me about my Keurig, and if maybe I could write a poem about it?  Here it is:

An Ode to my Keurig

Groggy sleepy crabbypants
Rage is building, starting rants
Need some coffee, need some joe
Caffeine makes life good, you know
Open up the chamber wide
Put your k-cup right inside
Push a button, pick a size
Coffee brews before your eyes
Inhale the scent and take a sip
Oh, delicious magic drip
I love you Keurig, here's a hug
Thank you for filling up my mug.

-Jan 2nd, 2012.