by | Nov 19, 2007 | Poetry | 0 comments

I’ve been called ‘ An egg beater ‘
A crime of which I’m free
They want to lock me in the drawer
And ‘ Throw away the key ‘

I’ve a friend who’ll vouch for me
His name is ‘ Bertie Bowl ‘
Eggs meet him, shells unbroken
I swear, they go in whole

Humans cause the damage
White hatted, nasty men
They ‘ break the will ‘ of eggshells
‘ Cracking Yokes ‘ about them

It’s not me beating up the eggs
A Chef’s hand is the Boss
They mix them into Omelettes
In frying pans they toss

I am just an instrument
I only follow orders
A Soldier of the kitchen
Accused of all egg murders

Round and round they make me go
The whisking makes me dizzy
Like being on a ‘ Fairground ride ‘
I’m really kept quite busy

‘ Deserts ‘ are my worst nightmare
Egg whites start to scream
Whipped until they stiffen
To use for ‘ Whipping cream ‘

The ‘ Blender’s ‘ got its eye on me
‘ Brenda ‘ is her name
She’s posh, and all electric
‘ Take-over ‘ is her game

I work quite hard to please ‘ The Chef ‘
So he won’t discard me
Work my ‘ wires ‘ to the bone
To prove my worth to he

I’m getting sick of all these eggs
Life ‘ Revolves ‘ around them
I try to ‘ Whip them into shape ‘
Be proud for ‘ Mother Hen ‘

Look out ! Here’s the Postman
More recipes he’ll bring
A ‘ Whipping Post ‘ is all I am
The pepper makes me sting

Don’t blame me, or my Victims
Forever we will beg
Just think about our misery
‘ Raise a Toast ‘ to scrambled egg !

We’ll meet you in the kitchen drawer
In darkness, hold a meeting
Our hero ‘ Humpty-Dumpty ‘
We’ll fight, and not ‘ be beaten ‘

So when you’re whisking eggs
Hands moving ever brisker
Think of us, we’re ‘ innocent ‘
We ’ wouldn’t hurt a whisker ‘


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