Denny's Restaurant Poem
I awakened to the dreary foreboding and whistling of the wind;
by ArmourQuill Hunter
As sighing intervals portrayed “don’t go to work at Denny’s tonight
‘Twill surely be their humour antics that will kill thee out right;
New Zealand’s Harold will cover it all and those here will exclaim:
“Ah yes, I remember her quite well~, ah~, what was her name…? ”
Maybe it’s enough to stay in bed, indeed, and introspectively wonder:
“What if it should be…? ”
I knew of Caron with her charming bold wit~,
And Margaret, too, who sneaks up on you~,
And of course, Miss Franks~ whose always there~,
But what evidence could be proved~ to anyone, anywhere?
They all hide~, until in the break room they sit.
I thought I’d die~, yesterday, and still their antidotes wouldn’t quite!
Yet I survived, but drollery stricken scheme might lay in-store tonight? !
This is not the normal Denny’s, as anyone from America would say~.
Why shouldn’t I listen ‘creatively‘ to the wind; and stay at home today?