A Poem for Chopsticks Day

David Booth lives in Toronto, Ontario, and is a Professor Emeritus at OISE/University of Toronto. A bestselling author and renowned educator, he has written many poetry anthologies for young people, including Til All the Stars have Fallen and Dr. Knickerbocker and Other Rhymes, and has co-authored books about the sharing of poetry for parents and teachers.

To read David Booth’s poem “Rhyming Chopsticks” click:

Rhyming Chopsticks

by David Booth

I am having a meal
With Bernard, my best friend,
When I notice the chopsticks
That I can’t comprehend.

Can I manage this dinner
Without fork or spoon?
These tools are confusing —
I’ll be a buffoon!

I can handle cloth napkins
Tucked under my chin,
But two plastic chopsticks?
My worries begin.

I don’t know the tricks,
My fingers are numb.
Bernard whispers to me,
“Don’t look so glum.”

“Hold one stick in place,
Just move the next one.
Now rest it against
The base of your thumb.”

I watch every move,
and listen to clicks
as all of these diners
flick their chopsticks.

I spear a fat dumpling
Like a fish in the sea.
Then another big one
Until I have three.

His mother then says,
“Try some of these noodles.”
I stare at the platter
With oodles of noodles.

Somehow I nudge some
Onto my plate,
And then begin twirling —
The sticks hold my fate.

But the best I can do
With my mouth open wide
Is to slurp them and suck them
And drag them inside . . .

Wait just a minute!
I’m catching on fast!
I’m twirling my chopsticks . . .
I’ve got it at last!

Smiles all around,
I’m ready to dine
With cutlery new,
Any old time.

Chopsticks rule!

“Rhyming Chopsticks” from Head to Toe Spaghetti and Other Tasty Poems,
© 2015 by David Booth – Rubicon Publishing

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Nona Blyth Cloud has lived and worked in the Los Angeles area for over 50 years, spending much of that time commuting on the 405 Freeway. After Hollywood failed to appreciate her genius for acting and directing, she began a second career managing non-profits, from which she has retired. Nona has now resumed writing whatever comes into her head, instead of reports and pleas for funding. She lives in a small house overrun by books with her wonderful husband.
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