Ok, Here is my entry. "Of Stewed Potatoes" And while from bath to drawer I race My heart is pounding in its place My feet are damp and slightly hot and lightly tender but wrinkled not I glance about the coast is clear I run so fast with naked rear for fear so near the jaws and tongues of wispy ghosts will find delight in nipping toes those dripping toes Just like potatoes spooned gently from a boiling stew I knew They could not resist but to chomp my morsels of toes with delicacies in mind. Sincerely, Stephanie, Chimi & Pepe ("mmmmm hot steamy toes") [Posted in FML issue 2977]