The Conkie Issue

 

 

I couldn’t make a conkie

Even to save my life

But I am a conkie connoisseur,

You could ask my wife.

 

I know a good conkie

Even before I taste it

And this, I can assure you,

Is out of habit.

 

Take the smell first of all

Followed by the shine

And all I can think of saying is,

All is mine.

 

Taste and texture

One must not ignore,

A conkie with these attributes

Simply says more.

 

I have had two recently

And they were bombs,

In my connoisseur disposition

I ate with aplomb.

 

 

Regarding raisins

There were very few,

As a matter of fact, in one,

I counted only two.

 

I really prefer my conkies

To be raisin free

But I won’t fret about two,

That won’t kill me.

 

However, I know someone

This would kill instantly

But I won’t tell you his name

It’s between him and me.

 

And all his Facebook fans

That he often bamboozles

With his thoughtful anecdotes

And provoking puzzles.

 

 

Cronkies are outlawed;

The ‘r’ is for raisins

And only recently I found out

He said it’s a sin.

 

To put raisins in a conkie

Is to make it impure,

That is Corey’s philosophy

Need I say more?

 

Oops! His name slipped out,

What a travesty!

Please my friend, Corey,

Please forgive me.

 

I’ve already posted this,

I cannot take it out

And the fact that I just lied

Is without a doubt.

 

I will take back the lie

But the raisins will remain

And I must also tell you

So will your name.

 

I am definitely sure

You are not one of those people

That will call this malice

And sue me for libel.

 

 

Like you, my dear friend,

I prefer raisin-less conkies

But one or two or even three

Won’t matter much to me.

 

More than these

I would surely blow my top,

A raisin slice is not a conkie-

It certainly is not.

 

Stewart Russell © November 21, 2023