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A Woman’s Poem

He didn't like the casserole

And he didn't like the cake.
My biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
So I turned around and smacked him...
Like his mother used to do.


Ken’s Newsletter, Volume IV, No. 9, September 2007, Ken Joines

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