(Poem 148 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

When Jennifer gets hangry,
people better watch out.
She’s usually quite docile,
but whoo can she shout.

The slightest little noise
can make her head explode.
If a breeze blows too strong,
she starts croaking like a toad.

Once she reaches that point,
there’s nothing you can do,
except pass her a plate of nachos,
a hamburger, a taco, or two.

@Home Studio – 148^th poem of the year