I know of a man
Who once thumbed ’bout a pan
Withdrawing a plum forthwith
He relished that plum
From his corner sanctum
And counted it heavenly bliss
But what if Jack Horner
Had leapt from his corner
And insulted the maker of pots?
What if he jammed up his thumb
And accosted that one
And cried out, “What terrible rot!”
Better Jack Horner
Did stay in his corner
A happy vessel of clay
Enjoying his plums
And his well-crafted thumbs
Praising his maker all day.
“Does the clay say to Him who forms it, ‘What are You making?’ Or ‘Your work has no handles’?”
Isaiah 45:9
Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Stephanie's Ninth Suitcase 