A spoon most runcible
Steve sat reading a book,
for he wanted to learn to cook,
he read the recipes, every single one,
from jams to breads, cheese and buns.
Then he read a strange new trick,
“instead of using a stirring stick,”
“try to use a runcible spoon”
“and stir it around like a typhoon”
What is this? Steve thought to himself,
he began to search his all his shelves,
ladles, forks and a rusty harpoon,
but not a single runcible spoon!
“That simply won’t do” Steve said,
How can I ever keep others fed,
with all kinds of tools strewn,
and yet not a single runcible spoon!
And so Steve set off on his quest,
he would have to face this challenging test,
with wind in his hair and whistling a tune,
for he simply must have a runcible spoon!
he walked along to the store,
and pushed open the door,
“pardon me, Sir, the time is noon,”
“but would you have a runcible spoon?”
“We’ve got tea and table, dessert too”
“and they come in red, green and blue”
but even from forests to desert dune,
you won’t find a single runcible spoon.
Steve left the store, and wandered on,
“it’s getting late,” he said with a yawn,
but I must go on, it’s still to soon,
for I’ve yet to acquire a runcible spoon.
He looked up, and saw the blacksmith
“Here’s the answer to this myth!”
Perhaps his goal could be hewn,
a shiny metal runcible spoon!
“Smith, Mr. Smith!” He yelled,
the smith looked up from the iron he held,
“you are the only one who can grant my boon”
“Please make me a runcible spoon!”
“Alright alright,” the smith said,
“you’ve come to the right shed”
“Pay me a single gold doubloon”
“and I shall make you a runcible spoon”
“That’s a lot, but it’s worth the price,”
“so buy it quickly, don’t think twice”
Now Steve was no foolish buffoon,
but he really wanted the runcible spoon!
“I’ll pay you half, how about that?”
“Deal,” Said the smith, and tipped his hat.
His hammers started ringing attune,
and began forging the runcible spoon.
“It is done!” the smith said,
before rolling into his bed.
“Finally!” said steve with a soft croon,
but he gasped aloud when he saw the spoon.
“what is this, a spoon and a fork?”
“Indeed,” said the smith with a smirk
for if you combine a fork and a spoon,
what you get is a runcible spoon.
The day was done, so was his quest,
and as Steve headed home to rest,
He danced like a loon under the moon,
and clutched in his hand was his silvery spoon!
I’ve been toying with the idea of creating a children’s book, so I wrote a little story as a poem, about a man on a quest for the mysterious runcible spoon. It could also be called Spork, but somehow that’s just not as appealing. As you can imagine, I was inspired by Dr. Seuss’s style, and I feel that this poem would go well with a stanza a page and an illustration to boot. This was but the first, and I may yet write more, but please be free and honest, I appreciate all forms of critique, as I’m always up for improving my poetry and writing.
Have a fantastic week,