Mary had a little lamb
His fleece was white as snow.
This little lamb, we’ll call him Stan,
Starred at a livestock show.
Stan followed her to cooking school
Her class was on white sauce,
It’s made with butter, dredge and milk—
Without sauce, meals are lost.
Poor Mary failed and was turned out.
Then holding wine in hand,
She waited patiently about
And hatched herself a plan,
Relieving Stan of liberty,
His head upon her arm,
As if he thought, “I’m not afraid”—
He should have been alarmed.
Oh, Mary loved the lamb you know,
But needing to pass the class—
Served up “Stanley Under Glass”*
With a hint of lemongrass.
Moral:
Some people may love little lambs,
But shanks can be a winner.
To take first place within your class,
Just eat the lamb for dinner.
Beverly Stock ©2020
*“Pheasant Under Glass” is a dish in which a pheasant is traditionally served on a plate that is covered with a glass dome.
Beverly Stock is a poet living in St. Louis, Missouri. Look for more of her work on her website: www.BeverlyStockPoetry.com
Thank God for a poem that isn’t cutesy-poo sentimental! Wonderful work, Ms. Stock.
One suggestion: in quatrain 5, the meter can be easily smoothed out this way:
Oh, Mary loved the lamb you know
But had to pass the class–
She served up “Stanley Under Glass”
With a hint of lemongrass.
I’ve had lamb shank only once, and it was great. Thanks for eliciting the memory with such a delightful poem that, for all the world has become, should have fallen flat. It didn’t, and for thinking it might have, I’m a baad, baad black sheep, now with wool no longer covering my eyes.