Breakfast in bed

This morning I made my mom breakfast in bed.
I tried to be careful, but burnt all the bread.
I tried to make sure that the coffee was hot,
By boiling the bit left in yesterday's pot.

I charred a few pancakes, potatoes, and grits.
The sausage, I seared into smoldering bits.
I made her some muffins like miniature coals,
And roasted a package of cinnamon rolls.

I scorched several servings of hamburger hash,
And microwaved bacon until it was ash.
I blackened a bagel, which started to smoke.
The smoke alarm sounded. My mother awoke.

I think she was panicked. She looked up in dread.
I proudly presented her breakfast in bed.
She grimaced, then silently counted to ten,
And asked me to never make breakfast again

Last time I was reading this poem about breakfast. I was doing this because I had to prepare an activity for little kids. When I read it I realized how lovely could be a child when he wants to prepare breakfast to his parents. It doesn’t matter if he prepares a good breakfast or a bad one. The only thing that matters is the intention of making parents feels happy. So, make sure your they feel you love them a lot!!!

Poly