My son, the poet. *sniff*

As #4 was cleaning out his book bag, he handed me a poetry anthology that he’d wrtten through the school year. It was full of treasures, and is going into the Box O’ Mem’ries. This one stood out as if were written for me:


bacon bacon, crispy bacon.
it’s a wonder in the makin’.
and the crispy crunchy yummy meat
is just impossible to beat.

I always wonder how to make it.
it’s taste always makes me moan
I’m begging Mom to teach me to bake it.
I’m just glad it’s not a stone.

bacon artwork by #4

About rootietoot

I do what I can.
This entry was posted in aaawwwww, Awesomeness, kids. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to My son, the poet. *sniff*

  1. Yeah baby! That’s awesome. So glad you found this to put away for him.


    ps I love bacon too!

  2. Jeff says:

    That’s not bacon, that’s the Swedish Chef!

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