The mixer lost its attachment.
"Without my mixer, I am paralyzed," said the heartbroken little attachment.
"I am not beautiful enough to be ornamental,
And without my mixer,
I am so sad that I cannot even stand up."
The cookie dough said,
"I will support you, until you feel stronger."
The bowl said,
"I will hold you, until you are not so sad."
Just then, a voice said,
"Where do you think you're going, you little rascal?" and clicked the attachment back into place.
Reunited with its beloved mixer,
It began spinning happily again,
Doing what it was always meant to do--
Stirring up sweet things.
_____________________
Another whimsical delight...
ReplyDeleteokay, so that was sweet.
ReplyDeleteand very creative too. Nice poem.
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh, shayfire, you imagination simply blows me away.
ReplyDeleteWonderful!
You amaze me!
ReplyDeleteAwww, so sweet! A delightful thought - love it. (Smile.)
ReplyDeleteThis poem and you are highlights in the universe.
ReplyDeleteThank you all so much for the kind comments. Some people take drugs to see the world the way that I do all the time lol.
ReplyDeleteJannie, while you were here leaving a comment--and what a comment! Thank you, Tex!--I was at your blog commenting on yours! Synchronicity!
Very neat! This reminds me of something my partner would write :)
ReplyDeleteYou are such a gifted writer that even your prose has a lyrical cadence to it.
ReplyDeleteMay I boldly suggest an alternative title for this post?
TO STIR, WITH LOVE
(Lulu and Sidney Poitier would approve.)
To Stir, W Love! That guy's funny!!!
ReplyDeleteThis is just so creative and a really fun read!
ReplyDeleteThank you, everyone, and welcome to the Word Garden, Riot Kitty!
ReplyDeletelove it!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Buddha, and welcome to the Word Garden!
ReplyDelete