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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2199846
This for the Taboo Words contest - which of course means there are words we could not use.
When Mom turned another year older
I decided to make a parfait –
as it still had the requisite layers
and its smell wouldn’t give it away.

See my mom was at work in her office
and she thought I was watching a show
(and forgot all about the occasion,
which, perhaps, is a little bit so).

I would have gone shopping for options
to add to my mother’s surprise
but I hadn’t a cent in my pockets
so I searched through our kitchen’s supplies.

Bananas, some Cool Whip and muffins
were all of the sweets I could find.
I thought of including the pickles,
but then, in the end, changed my mind.

I looked for some see-through container –
those layers, they must be the star –
the winner, a bottle of mustard,
of course, once I cleaned out the jar.

I sliced, stacked and scooped in the contents.
I ended with three even tiers,
inserting three colorful toothpicks
to stand for each decade of years.

I proudly conveyed my concoction
and greeted my mom with the song
as if I had needed no prompting
and knew of this day all along.


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