A Poem for Tuesday

I've been on a trip down to see my sister Cyberspace Sarah.  They have computers where she lives, but I am afraid my blog wasn't on my mind.  You see there's no snow down there.  I was blinded and bewildered.  I was confused when there wasn't anything to put my boots into.

And while you try to figure out exactly how crazy and confused I really am, here is a poem about toast.

Morning Toast

Doris I. Bateman

My toast has such a crunchable sound

As I bite my piece that's all buttered and browned.

Though my egg is pure silver and gold in my dish,

And my orange and cocoa quite all one could wish

Still, I know that at breakfast the thing I like most

Is my buttered, brown, munchable, crunchable toast!