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!

Pastas’ Lament


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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