The Lemonade Stand

 

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Down a shady sidewalk on a summer's promenade,
you are bound to find small children selling lemonade.
Grinning through their freckles, they are massed in earnest quorum,
offering a paper cup that's brimming and lukewarm.
Hornets circle lazily above this charming scene;
El Dorado beckoning without a window screen.
Every quarter in their till is cause for toasts and talk
of expanding business 'til they've drunk up all the stock!
Then it's back to mother for a slew of new supplies,
robbing her quite merrily before her very eyes.
As the shades of evening fall upon their little stand,
they espy their father and begin a loud demand:
customers are scarcer than the hair on chicken egg;
won't he buy up their whole stand, so solemnly they beg.
Father knows the drill quite well, and so with weary smile,
he reaches in his pockets and lays quarters in a pile.
With their new prosperity the kids run clean away--
letting mother, father, clean up after them next day.
Does this simple comedy remind you of some folk,
who trifle with their bizness and make others bear the yoke?
I will not belabor any similarities.
Draw your own conclusions as to who gets all the cheese.

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