An ode to the humble Cow Creamer: A guest post by Ragini SGH

An innocent cow creamer filled with cream,
Brings forth into all eyes that mad gleam.

Even before the cream can thicken,
Many a soul is conscience stricken.

To pinch or not to pinch,
They feel drawn and pulled, inch by inch.

Waiting to be picked up it seems,
Sleeping or awake, it has appeared in many dreams.

Many will surely try their luck,
Not an easy task, though it appears to be a sitting duck.

So may the best man pinch her with stealth,
And ever after remain in good health.

(Permission of the author, an avid fan of P G Wodehouse, to publish this composition here is gratefully acknowledged.)

(Illustration courtesy the www)

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