Poem By Michael Shepherd
At what age does the recognition dawn
that grown-ups aren’t quite as bright
as they would like – and would like you –
An early proof among the many
was marmalade – the stuff best tasted
when licked off the marmalade spoon, or
if Mom tried to make it (big wooden spoon) or
scraped off stodge pudden at your school…
and best, the one that came in brown stone jars
because that was cheaper; lettered in black
to say it came from Keiller’s; and was made
from several oranges, so grown-ups said…
well, how obvious can you get? A big stone jar
or even a glass jar, was bigger than a single orange..
and couldn’t grown-ups spell either?
Their later proffered excuse was to be just as phoney –
How could all that marmalade
come from just one town which the Jogrufy mistress
said was somewhere in Spain?
Yet another reason to add to your growing decision
never to be a grown-up… so sadly over-rated…