“I was cooking last night
Then all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
‘Cause the lights had gone out.
We laid out heads
On pillows near the headboard
Off to dreams
that the power would be restored.
Dreams, dreams,
I often don’t recall
And this night
The dreams were not right
When suddenly a smell
Wafted through my dream and the house
A smell quite strong
More strong than a mouse!
I woke with anxiety!
I woke with disconcert!
I woke with sobriety!
With concerns and alert!
The last I recalled
Before the power expired
Was cooking cheese noodles
On the stove I acquired!
Up from my bed
I roared in a fit
To the smell of a pot
On a red hot fire pit !
No one died
From the stove that night
And I will never understand
Why stoves don’t have an automatic cutoff where every fifteen minutes you have to push a safety button to keep it “on”. That’s just ridiculous and it should be criminal. How much does a mechanical timer cost anyway? Five bucks? Just dumb. As a public service announcement, please be careful when the power goes out. When it comes back on there could be problems.
——————–
Well. I couldn’t figure out how to rhyme that last stanza. The envoy was not as short as I would have liked. The remains of a cooking spoon that had lived since my childhood is in the photo.
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