Pastas' Lament Poem...
Greetings again all! Well, hopefully I don't fall into the category of "poet" and "don't know it"! I put this piece together after a supper interlude with my four kids -- actually, the strands remained 'up high' for a time for memory's sake.
Hope you see the fun and love here and thank you for reading!
There's spaghetti on the ceiling,
Strung this way and that.
Strand upon strand,
Ever stuck where it's at.
'Twas a contest of sorts to see who could make,
Pasta behave in such admirable shape.
Turn upon turn, all four in a row,
Eager, impatient, for pasta to throw.
With eyes on the sky and strands in hand,
Pasta flies with abandon from woman and man.
With shrieks and howls, gazes did strain,
To see what fell and what would remain.
Spaghetti on the ceiling is stuck in the air,
Entwined in each other, flung with flair.
Lonely they be from their vantage above but
Placed with great care, and with great love.
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Thanks for reading and hope this helps some for this type of problem. Worked for me but took some experimenting to get it right.
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