The Wooden Spoon Poem by Brooke Renwick

Raucous laughter filled the room.
As mum chased him with a wooden spoon.
The little boy spoke too soon,
as his mother cornered the pint-sized goon.

Don't mess with your mother,
Lest you regret it all round.
Don't cuss your mother,
You'll never live it down.

If you are a pint-sized grommet.
Rewards as you sing her a sonnet.
But you'll see twelve blue moons come and go,
before mum lets you cuss as you grow.