Guest Poems

Melted Popcicles

The freezer door was left open
And boy what a pickle
I have all of the pop
But none of the cicle.

What can I do,
To get out of this muddle?
My nice little treats
Are a popcicle puddle.

No longer solid
So tasty and cool
Replaced with an orange,
Red, and grape pool..

Gone is the taste
And gone are the licks.
Replaced by wet cardboard
And a big pile of sticks.

The box once so full
Is a real soggy mess
And who has to clean up
I’ll give you one guess.

Well, I’ll clean up the stuff
Then it’s off to the store,
Find the frozen food aisle
And get me some more.

This time I’ll close the door tight
And probably lock it
And because I don’t like to share
Keep the key in my pocket.


Name: Geoff Weilert

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