Her Munching Mumbling Machine

Peculiar, her poetry personified

Objects like a washing machine

In ways that signified a measure

Of startling creativity and hilarity

She considered reading as a pastime,

A precious one, not pitiful penance,

In her poetry, her pen patted her paper

Like a chum, and her washing machine

Was a laundry, lonely lad who muttered,

Mattered, burped as he munched a range

Of grey garments rammed into his mouth

By her weary mom every Friday afternoon!