The Tragedy of Fine Dining

It was not noticed she was gone
until the plates were cleared away.
Her mom critiqued the skewered prawns
in the unfortunate café.

Her father was the first to find
his little girl not there
Above, about, around, behind,
they searched ‘most everywhere.

At last they figured where to look
For the tender young Francesca
-- it was left up to the cook
to check the pasta puttanesca.

Shakily, he lifts the lid,
And he starts weeping too
as he finds what happened to the kid
-- for here’s Francesca’s shoe!

“Well, that’s all right then” said her Dad
with a hearty smile
“You know, she was so awfully bad,
a real unruly child.

“I like her better on a plate,
the little dullard brat.
I simply don’t see what’s so great
about a girl who scratched the cat.”

‘Twas agreement that the mother gave
and the chef was suddenly inspired --
A new meal for the palate brave!
All a parent’s heart desired!

They gathered ‘round for the grandest dish
Of not bow-ties or cappaletti
Served not with chicken nor with fish—
No. This, this was spaghetti.