Spoons
Forkin spoons the knife would say
and put the silverware away
and soon it withers but rarely gone
A steel for one and ne’er gone wrong
With masterful might I find a way
I push and pull and down they lay
To spoon and hold the day so dear
nor sound or moment that we hear
A fork again has come to time
with every single counter tine
and when the fork is done and gone
we all will feel that we have won