From Great-Grandmother, Dublin born, Canadian grown, Prairie bound.
In a large bowl,
no worse for ware,
Take two bags of dilly dally,
Add three equal size bags of whatchamacallits,
Mix in a couple of gizmos, to your discretion,
Sift through a sieve.
For all that it's worth,
Stir until well folded,
Take all the time you need,
Though do it sooner than later.
If you can find one,
Get a hold of a thingamajig,
Look here and there,
Under this and that.
When you are ready,
When you get around tuit,
Place it in the oven,
In no time flat you'll be finished before you know it.
Add a dash of whatnot,
A little willy nilly,
And a whereabouts, (which are hard to find)
They grow neither here nor there.
And if you end up in a pinch,
Between a rock and a hard place,
Sometime between now and then,
Put a cork in it.
That's all she wrote.
But then she added,
Written in pencil,
Nonetheless,
For good measure,
Sprinkle with the leaves of a shrinking violet,
Eat with sour grapes.
Take it with a grain of salt.
I wouldn't recommend saving any for you know who.
I have to get around tuit.
ReplyDelete