DT (6.12.51 / England)

.8. Rotten Toffee

Twisting and turning
It just wouldn’t budge
Dark treacle toffee
I should have made fudge

It sat in the tray
A large slab of black
I got it half out
But it soon settled back

Three knives got broken
Another bent spoon
I look for success
And need it quite soon

My nerves are so shot
Now I’ve started to stammer
I’m off to the shed
For my biggest lump hammer

I raise it aloft
You’re for it I mumble
Then I strike the black slab
And it’s starting to crumble

At last I have done it
Used all of my might
The thick treacle toffee
Had know lost its fight

It put up a struggle
But know I am chewing
Until it set hard
My jaw it’s now gluing

Next time I’ll make fudge
I’m fed up making toffee
And now I’m away
To melt it with coffee


© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes

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