The following poem dates WAY back to  the early 1930’s. I saw it printed in a Reminisce magazine and thought it was so cute – and showed the innocence back them. It’s silly while being sweet at the same time…

The Crust I Poked Under My Plate

Last night I didn’t eat up my crust.
I poked it under my plate.
I thought that no one would find it there,
But when it grew dark and late
And I was in bed all covered up tight,
All covered but just my head,
I saw that very same crust, I did,
Come walking up over my bed.
He had two big ears and great big eyes
And he grinned and he said to me,
“I’m the very same crust you poked under your plate.
You couldn’t hide me, you see.
You must never, never do that again.”
“All right, I won’t,” I said.
“I will eat you up to the very last crumb,
If you’ll please get down off of my bed.”
So he jumped off the bed and disappeared.
I have searched for him early and late,
But he comes no more.
For I never poke my crust in under plate.

–Author unknown

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This entry was posted on Thursday, March 26th, 2009 at 2:04 pm and is filed under To Your Health!. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.