With the school year starting up,
There was gonna be a program,
The little misses wanted to give,
A donation of a large ham.
Her husband looked at her and said,
"My dear Scarlett, Honey,
We couldn't possibly do that,
Why we're not made of money!"
She cried, "But Rhett, what shall we do,
In this town you know we must live.
Everyone else is donating things,
We must think of something to give."
He somberly looked over at her,
As he are his last bite of a yam.
Then with cool demeanor be said,
"Franks, my dear, I wont give a ham".

by Connie Coss

Other poems of CONNIE COSS (3)

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