A Poem for the Passionate Snow Cone Maker
On waking, the first thing that popped in my head
A question like fire as I leapt from the bed
Both hands towards the heavens, I cried in dismay,
“My God! What snow cones will I make today?”
Banana perhaps? Maybe peach or black cherry?
Coconut, bubble gum, black or blueberry?
A small margarita, a large wedding cake?
So many delectable flavors to make!
Which one, O Fortuna, which one will it be?
A lemon, cream soda, or sweet daiquiri?
Surely not piña colada with cream
Such combos can only be found in a dream!
I fell to my knees from the weight of my choices
Each flavor appeared like the clamor of voices
“How can I answer?” I yelled from the heart
“This anticipation will tear me apart!”
Just then, without warning, the telephone rang
I answered to hear the store manager saying,
“The weather report says there’s snow on the way.
We’re closing the store, so you’re off for the day.”
So I went back to bed.
- Ian Chapman
