Baby carrots in a bag.
At home, I notice one has swag.
Out the phone goes, picture taken.
Inspect close, I've not mistaken.
Sure looks like a pair of pants!
"Don't eat me, save me," it chants.
I decide not to raspel him.
This baby carrot conjoined twin,
won't be in any salad drin.
Pillepalle, gebe es Sinn.
In this poem, it has a Neubeginn.
As Karottenhosen-Blödsinn.
I'd have to diet to fit in these,
though I'm short, it's a tight squeeze.
Ufff, I can't get them over the knees,
thanks to giving in to the munchies.
Too many late night brownies and pastries.
Hmm.. should I pair the carrot pants with goat cheese?
© Donna H.
April 8, 2025
(Text/Bilder)
At home, I notice one has swag.
Out the phone goes, picture taken.
Inspect close, I've not mistaken.
Sure looks like a pair of pants!
"Don't eat me, save me," it chants.
I decide not to raspel him.
This baby carrot conjoined twin,
won't be in any salad drin.
Pillepalle, gebe es Sinn.
In this poem, it has a Neubeginn.
As Karottenhosen-Blödsinn.
I'd have to diet to fit in these,
though I'm short, it's a tight squeeze.
Ufff, I can't get them over the knees,
thanks to giving in to the munchies.
Too many late night brownies and pastries.
Hmm.. should I pair the carrot pants with goat cheese?
© Donna H.
April 8, 2025
(Text/Bilder)
