‘Said the fire to the kettle; “will you sit upon my pew?”
“I’ve got quite a lot to tell you,
And so many things to show you;
But, first you must step into my chateau,
And sit your pretty self upon my pew.”
“Oh no, I shall not!” said the kettle to the fire
“For you spark up so much anger,
This gives me so much more to ponder
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Tell me all that you may from a wide blue yonder”
“A little of what you fancy does you good”
Said the fire with a lustful drool;
“To each other, we would be of good use,
If only you give me a chance to take care of you,
Ah! I shall go no further than your rules”
‘Said the kettle to the fire; “say this of you to how many others?
The pan and the pot you had for how much dollars?
Didn’t you with your fury blaze squash their pretty flowers?
Who stepped into your chateau, you did caress
Go away! For I belong to the Abbess”
“Ha-ha!” went the amused fire, “have you been hearing tales?”
“Pay no mind to idle tongues where rumor hails,
You, my lady are full of impeccable grace
To know you is no twisted fate
Come into my chateau and bless my day!
And so the flattered silver kettle, with a sparkly blush;
Stepped into the blazing chateau in a rush
The roguish witty fire stormed right after with a gush
Soaring in red hot flames, he powered on his thrust
Oh! From her tiny sprout, the squirmy little kettle sang an aching song!
And you my friend may feel sorry for the little kettle
With no thoughts that she represents your own life saddles
When words spew out like that of the fire– to you be true
Yes you may; listen to many– but speak to a few
That you may not end up sitting on a pew!
WRITTEN BY: ‘Nonye J. Chidolue (@Nonyewrites)