Bountiful Treats
The tub sits in the staffroom,
Tantalising.
People come and go and the contents wane.
Silvery linings.
First, there is happiness,
Then the murmur of passivity,
And finally disgust…
The audacity!
Of the left-over Bounty.
Some of you may have heard that the Bounty is being removed from Celebrations as a 'trial.'
Never, fear! You'll be back my friend. You are not lone in this world.
This is a poem that I wrote in April, from a prompt with the word 'silver.'
As you can see, I've always had sympathy with the Bounty and I'm always glad they're left over because it means, for me, no matter how late you are to the party. There's always something for ya!
Which crew are you?
