deception poem # 1
my stalwart upright grandfather
“took the pledge” when a youth
never to touch alcohol never did
nor did the farm men a stipulation
of their hiring those found drinking
were fired on the spot I was eight or
so when my mom made a genuine
plum pudding for a holiday dinner
grampa and grama were our guests
mother poured the contents of a 7-up
bottle over the mound on the platter
held a match to the liquid—flames
flared up danced over the confection
we cheered it was magical we were
served after the fire had died grampa
ate his delectable portion with gusto
but for several years I wasted many
a match trying to set 7-up on fire
©2015 Jacqueline Jackson
This article appears in Jan 7-13, 2016.
