LATE OCTOBER, in my kitchen: for some sugar I was itchin’
and I knew that satisfaction lay behind my pantry door.
Though I should be upstairs sleeping, here I was, downstairs, creeping
‘round my kitchen, no one peeping as I tiptoed ‘cross the floor.
Nothing stirring, just me creaking, sneaking softly ‘cross the floor
for one Kit-Kat, nothing more.
Ah, how happy and how handy to have bags of bits of candy
tucked inside each nook and cranny after purchase from the store.
Bought but not meant to be eaten, bought for kids for trick or treatin,’
bought for goblins who come knocking, trick or treating at my door.
Gobs of candy here so handy stored behind my pantry door–
Oh, those Kit-Kats I adore!
All those candies so fantastic bulging from their bags of plastic
thrilled me – filled me with a crazy craving that I’d felt before.
So that now, to satisfy it, I ignored my sweet-free diet
and let appetite run riot, scarfing Kit-Kats by the score.
I let appetite run riot, crunching Kit-Kats by the score,
till the bag had nothing more.
Still my craving grew much stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Time,” said I, “to raid my other sweet- and treat-filled reservoir.”
For the fact is when I’m craving chocolate candy I’ve been saving,
you can bet that I’ll be caving – misbehaving – that’s for sure.
So for new treats I went seeking, sneaking to a closet door:
“Just a few treats, nothing more.”
Deep into that closet peering, long I stood there perservering,
craving, raving for the chocolates that lay waiting by the score:
Kit-Kat, Krackle, even Skor bars —
Hershey’s, Twix and many more bars,
one by one, they disappeared as through the bulging bags I tore.
Milky Ways, Three Musketeers — their wrappers spilled upon the floor.
Then: just wrappers, nothing more.
Back upstairs I started heading, something deep within me dreading
what I’d have to tell my kids and those who’d knock upon my door.
What excuses would deceive ’em? Lies I’d tell, who would believe ’em?
How explain my thievin’ of the candy bought mere days before?
Then – it came! – I’d simply blame my faithful fellow candy-vore:
“‘Twas the dog! She’s poached before.”
Satisfied with this solution, plotting now its execution,
up I headed to my bedroom, with a vow I firmly swore.
Next year, would this mom be buying gobs of candy and then lying
and denying my own role in its depletion yet once more?
Dare I tempt my will again with bags of chocolate bars galore?
Quoth this mother: “NEVERMORE!”
©2013 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz
CLICK the arrow to hear The Well-Versed Mom read “The Cravin.'”
Your POEtry is scrumptious. Evermore.
Thanks for reading, just once more…
Haha this is great– sadly my household is only me and my dog so she knows the truth if I try to blame her.
Yeah, my kids are pretty much on to me. I can’t blame anything on the dog anymore. Especially if it involves disappearing food…
Bad smells though… That’s *always* the dogs fault…
Yes, what Annette said! Damn Carlotta, perfect in so many ways.
Thanks for reading! (It was, of course, based on a mostly true story…)
this is so clever! funny and fabulous!
Glad you liked it! Hope your Halloween candy doesn’t suffer the same fate…
Blame the dog? That seems a Poe excuse! (Maybe this would be a good place to remind people that dogs should NOT be allowed to eat chocolate)
ABSOLUTELY. DO NOT LET YOUR DOG EAT KIT-KATS. (Or any other chocolate. Or the animals, for that matter.) Thanks, Gary!
Great job! Love the audio.
Thanks! That audio clip was recorded and masterfully mixed by the pros at PonySound right here in Austin, Texas. Love those guys! 😉
Mmmm…. Kit Kats! I wish my thighs would disappear, though through my bulging jeans they tore.
Okay, not as lyrical as the Well Versed Mom. I’ll leave the poetry to you! 🙂