COOKIE PLEASE
I rise from my place of rest.
I am on a secret quest.
I check to see where you are,
Then head for the cookie jar.
I lift it down from the shelf,
Almost ashamed of myself.
Conscience saying, I should stop
As I quietly lift the top.
Plunging hand ready to grip,
Oatmeal, ginger, chocolate chip.
A fleeting panic arises,
As empty space surprises.
As my fingers touch the prize,
You step in and say “Surprise!”
Then sweetly, “Cookie please!”
Who could resist such a tease.
As I see you standing there,
Have no choice, but to share.
I extend the jar with a pout,
You reach in and take one out.
One bite brings delight to you,
Oh! sweet sound of crunch and chew.
My mouth waters, my pallet aches
As my stomach anticipates.
I move to relieve the pain,
The prize at last I will gain.
With shaking hand now I grope,
Clutching air and losing hope.
Stand I now with fallen face,
Staring at an empty space.
I could have sworn there were two,
One for me and one for you.
Copyright 2006© Willie E. Weaver
All rights reserved.
