The Wooden Spoon Poem by Brook Renwick

The Wooden Spoon

Rating: 5.0


Raucous laughter filled the room.
As mum chased him with a wooden spoon.
The little boy spoke too soon,
as his mother cornered the pint-sized goon.

Don't mess with your mother,
Lest you regret it all round.
Don't cuss your mother,
You'll never live it down.

If you are a pint-sized grommet.
Rewards as you sing her a sonnet.
But you'll see twelve blue moons come and go,
before mum lets you cuss as you grow.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Uche Nwanze 10 September 2019

An outstanding poem. Nothing like a beautiful childhood.

1 0 Reply
Rose Marie Juan-austin 10 September 2019

A fascinating poem imbued with insight and wisdom. Well crafted write.

1 0 Reply
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Brook Renwick

Brook Renwick

Sydney, Australia
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