Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #368
Spaghetti and Meatballs
by Belinda Roddie
Spaghetti and meatballs fill up my plate
as I serve the whole family, and we
enjoy the meal. We aim to celebrate
another year of simple revelry,
as well as my dear wife's latest birthday.
There she is, all pink-lipped and rosy-cheeked,
sending sweet, lopsided smiles my way,
making everything below my waist weak.
Spaghetti is her favorite dish, you see,
and I don't mind; it's quite easy to make,
and it is delicious, obviously.
I do prefer to boil rather than bake,
and so I offer seconds to my kin
and my sweet bride, white cheese across her grin.
by Belinda Roddie
Spaghetti and meatballs fill up my plate
as I serve the whole family, and we
enjoy the meal. We aim to celebrate
another year of simple revelry,
as well as my dear wife's latest birthday.
There she is, all pink-lipped and rosy-cheeked,
sending sweet, lopsided smiles my way,
making everything below my waist weak.
Spaghetti is her favorite dish, you see,
and I don't mind; it's quite easy to make,
and it is delicious, obviously.
I do prefer to boil rather than bake,
and so I offer seconds to my kin
and my sweet bride, white cheese across her grin.
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