Sponge Cake and Rotten FruitA Poem by gombeggarSammy was her name and just still is What to do with that knowledge is your very own biz
What to eat? What to do? She wondered this through and through She asked her companion, but he’d not to say He was bound all in leather and tinfoil today Sammy smiled at her chair bound friend Politely downing her very cute chin Her friend still quiet, he leaned to the left Sammy felt that this was all for the best
In case you want to know Her friend’s one that’s all hollow A stand in until her next coming theater play When Sammy gets some fresh new company
So hungry just for food and how What was in the cupboards, of the pantry now? Oh, to look and thus to see What to eat in the cupboards could there be? All was dusty and all dust-filled settled When had she even taken time last to boil the kettle? A meal, some sustenance, any was this girl’s need Anything would do for this girl’s want to feed
Every cupboard, everywhere Only dusty old things of eats in there Cardboard this, dried up that Nothing even to feed her cat
Could it be? Could it be? Canned soup and old crackers for Sammy? Dried fruit and pepperoni per say? Lasagna noodles without sauce from an age-old day? Chipped beef in a can? Dated all the way back to World War II just like that bloated can of gray Spam… Brown lettuce? What a salad that might make… Rotten tomatoes…how about cake?
Cake? Yes, cake…forget that dry package of shake-n-bake Sammy turned so fast the floor, it quaked To the refrigerator like lightning she streaked She opened the door so fast the inside light kinda blinked And a breath of dry icy air struck out at her From the condenser motor tied up back in there
All the dust, the dirt, the decay Her kitchen wasn’t always this way Some things change, some stay the same But Sammy knew only she was to blame
Now where was she? Oh, yes… At the refrigerator and it was cooling at its best The few items it held in its confines Or was that simply a test? A trick of its insides? What’s good to eat? She asked quietly to herself The first thing she found looked like a rock someone had melt She moved it once and dust arose In the garbage, she thought was where that should go She set it back and it moved on it’s own Whatever it was she’d leave it alone
The tomatoes, the lettuce were on their way out Just as she figured, maybe with dressing that could allow The mayo was green, darkish green, no black What exactly was that in the back?
There in the back, the back-ity back What was that that she saw on the frig plate rack? She dug, yes; she dug…two cans of mold? No, a little further back, something good to behold
In a clear wrapped plastic container Still clean, not a spot of mold on the inside there Amongst the other edibles settled in place Hidden behind the well beyond aged cheese space She reached for it, the hidden treasure Sponge cake was what she found back in the rear Past the gnarled eggplant Parmesan clumps And the ravioli now turned to dry bumps
So close but still it’s yet so very far Past orange juice ripe enough to fuel a car If only her reach could be made longer If only her desire could make her stronger
Almost there and in her grasp The unruined cakes will be hers at last Just a stretch, a little stretch She can see it, nearly feel it…she’s doing her best
Victory was all Sammy’s now After all she hungered like a starving cow So slow she drew out the wrapped and secure treasure The start of her dining pleasures Past all the old things of green Plastic containers bulging at the seams Clean the kitchen? Clean the frig? All in good thyme, a little later in just a little bit First thing is always first When out of the old icebox she did burst! Container held up in outstretched hand Sammy was the girl, the girl with the plan
She placed it down On the counter and frowned At the plastic container How would she get inside there?
A glimmer of grand hope It came to her out of moldy dust and smoke That was hazing all about the kitchen now From her rummaging in the frig, and how But still she knew her kitchen well Knew right where to go, the clever bell
At the table right in the middle A sight so wondrous it made her tittle In the settled dust that somewhat cleared About the ozone that smelled of stale beer There it was sitting all so still A bowl of fruit looking oh so ill Sitting there all readily Over ripe, that was plain to see Just some bits of fuzzy mold, to be sure Sammy was so hungry that it’d be fine anyway for her
Ahh, but Sammy jumped the gun In her hunger she tried to outrun the sun Back through the drawers Filled wildly with utensils in hordes Why were they packed with so many spoons? Could this be the case of a loon? No, she chided herself all at once ‘Sammy, this is your house,’ she said calling herself a ponce How could anything she do be wrong? In this state of affairs gone terribly long… Still, she shuffled the silver Looked the whole lot over Spoons and spoons were all she could see Not even a butter knife to fill her need
So Sammy dug, she rifled and she dug Until her smile was just so smug There it was, one among many Buried deep amongst the spoons that were a plenty It was a kitchen carving knife Not some butter spread useless type Oh, happy day it sure now was How much simpler this makes everything, it does To it, the plastic container she put the blade at once Sammy sliced it open, a simple task And removed the package so very fast
Sponge cake, oh, sponge cake Simple and ready with no need to bake She spread opened the container and all was still fresh Now she had to think what garnish would be best Back to the table to mingle and mix To find what was left fresh enough for Sammy’s hunger fix The bowl of fruit. it was there still Hadn’t aged enough to be crawling yet to the sill She plucked the fruit, bit by bit Shaved it all clean from it’s furry coated grit
Now the meal would be complete In little over a few heartbeats Sammy chopped and she chopped Then a little more she chopped with a clop, clop and clop She grabbed up the sloppy fruit in her hands And dashed them down on the sponge cakes’ plastic pan They looked so good and fine The sponge cakes filled with fruit sublime
Sammy looked up and around the room The disarray, the dirt and the gloom Nothing in the kitchen much had changed The room still called for to be cleaned and rearranged But not just now…the time wasn’t right Not when her meal was nearly in sight
All was prepared and all was fine Now finally, Sammy was ready to dine When a loud, loud knock sounded on the kitchen door So fierce and strong, Sammy nearly fell to the floor Who could this now be? Did she want to even see? Interrupt her finally made meal But her curiosity got the best of her, what was this new deal?
The door clattered with knockings still more Who was knocking on Sammy’s door? It flew open wide not waiting anymore And in walked Rory like a great big smiling storm In his hands he held big and proud A big pizza pie from the shop down the road! Sammy looked at him with gleeful smiling teeth Her friend, Rory had brought some real food to eat! The door slammed back shut with the wind in which he came in Now Sammy’d forgotten the sponge cake and rotten fruit therein
© 2012 gombeggarAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews  Last Updated on May 16, 2012 Author
gombeggarhazleton, PAAbouti'm a writer, older then my years, younger then as well...i'm a fool and a giant...not usually on the same days more..Writing
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