BOOBY TRAPS
Our home is all peaceful and quite serene,
People love to come for the feeling is keen,
Not a place you’d compare with booby traps,
On the contrary, just the opposite you’d think, perhaps.
But two kitchen cupboards have developed a plan
To scare me to death every chance they can.
To open a door to take out a pan you try,
Hoping that a lid or a pot does not happen to fly
Out of control, landing as it comes out of the door
Right onto your toe before it ever touches the floor.
So often I tidy those two cupboards with care,
Threatening a short life if again they dare
To jump out unheeded, any pot lid or pan,
But they seem to ignore my well thought out plan.
I am sure it is not my dear husband and son
That place them precariously to have some fun,
Mind you today I began to have my doubts,
At the peels of laughter at my scared shouts.
The laughter continued as I opened the other door
And more uninvited utensils fell on the floor.
I must admit that I did laugh to myself
When I saw there was nothing left on the shelf
As I stood ankle deep in cookie sheets, lids and pans,
I’ll not blame the cupboard but four helping hands.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 20 February 2004