Once there was a little spoon,
Who was so shiny, bright and new!
He had the sheen and glimmer that all good spoons do.
He learnt his lessons while he was young,
He never really thought it was fun,
Learning how to measure, stir and serve food.
So one late winter morning,
He heard the bed beckon, calling,
"Little spoon up on the table, how do you do?"
The spoon cried out "I'm bored!"
And slowly started shifting forward.
He'd found that rebel streak which was due.
The bed, menacing with his great lore,
Lay out far but still the nearest shore.
The colour, the pattern always in view.
The little spoon thought back to things his father said,
"All is well, and fair, but the bed!"
Yet the little spoon had thought it through.
He crept right up until the edge, and peered down, remembering his pledge.
"Always and forever, will I be a loyal, faithful spoon, through and through."
The thoughts plagued him as he began to hop,
But once he lept he had but one lonely thought.
"But I shall be the only spoon of the bed, what ever shall I do?"
But once he landed, although with regret,
He knew that he had decided his fate.
Forever to be held, forced between blankets, two.
He gave a shriek in despair,
And remembered his life so fair,
He cried, and sobbed, till the sheets looked like dew.
Then he heard a faint call,
"Little Spoon, Little Spoon, where'd you fall?"
His heart jumped and squealed and his spirit grew.
He knew the voice that was calling out,
And suddenly he was filled with doubt.
"I left my father" he thought, and back he drew.
But there, standing on a great crest,
Stood his father, bearing his chest.
The Little Spoon saw him, and felt renewed.
His father grabbed him and held him close,
"I've been searching for you, coast to coast"
The Little Spoon looked up at him confused.
His father held him tight and whispered in his ear,
"You never have anything to fear"
The Little Spoon just said "I love you".
For his father had saved him,
Fought warriors, and slayed dragons,
Just as the best dads do.
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