I’ve lately grown wary
Of a fat Blueberry
Who came with his buddies
To my frig in a box.
There had to be thousands
Of big juicy round ‘uns
Just waiting for baking
Into scones or pancakes.
Ten pounds were so many
For baking a-plenty
Although to avoid it
I ate raw ones for days.
A few are now mushy
All squishy and gushy
But some are still plumpish
And just perfect for pie.
Today wrapped in pastry
They’ll be mighty tasty
And tempt me to blow it
Like an addict gone nuts.
Oh that sly Blueberry!
He just had to tarry
‘Till pie was the answer
To avoid certain rot.
Now later today Blue
And friends become blue stew
And pop from my oven
Looking crusty and sweet.
The glut’s not my own fault
Ole’ Blue planned the assault
I’m only a victim
Of sugar addiction.
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