She use to pack her own lunch.
She called hot lunch a waste.
She didn't like the cooks at school.
She had such picky taste.
...
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So you rise to another challenge Mary and with such style. This is brilliant and so funny. I considered responding myself, but 'lunchbox' over hear has a different conotation; one Max may not have had in mind. If you think I am being a little unclear then ask yourself what the first thing is that is noticable about male ballet dancers. In England we would say that itis their 'lunchbox' and would goonto to comment about how well (or not) it was packed.
Mary you have an exceptional talent to deliver people we have met and make us remember them with a smile. Picky Pam went to my school in Cairo, Egypt :)
the great tresaure of memory producing laughter a wonderful gift worthy of a poet immersed in actual living which is the goal so rarely achieved a fine poem
You can have real fun with these 'instant' type poems, where you have a 'challenge' and very little time to produce one. This is a very clever ditty, put together very well. Love Ernestine XXX
Love it Mary! ! Remember how my Mum once ate egg mayo on the tube - oh the shame lol! Moya (sorry mum)
Mary, I am terribly hurt by your poem... I LOVE egg salad. Actually, I had to laugh, I've never thought about how the smell could offend someone. Great poem, very creative and funny! ! Brian