Dinner
I searched and sought and nosed about,
I could not find my little trout.
He wasn’t on my sisters bed,
I’m pretty sure by now he’s dead.
I smelt a smell in the kitchen,
It smelt a little like cooked pigeon.
I searched and sought and nosed about,
Then I found my little trout.
He sat upon a golden platter,
My sister looking a little fatter.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.