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Who Stole my Cherry Cobbler?

Sitting in the old boring office one day,
Working hard and earning my pay,
I felt quite hungry, so I had thought,
“Why not go eat that cherry cobbler I just bought?”

I had gotten it from a vender in the street,
“Try some,” he called, “try some, it’s oh so sweet!”
So I paused, and I figured, just for fun,
I bought a cherry cobbler, for two dollars plus one.

At the office, I placed it in the break room fridge,
Hoping it wouldn’t be eaten by the ravenous Midge.
She’s the office eater, stealing all of our food,
My cheese whiz for example, why she even ate the tube!

My buddy Nick’s delightful apple crisp,
She even drank Gloria’s Diet Sierra’s Mist.
A stack of fries smothered with cheese,
She ate the Chinese food without even saying please.

Popsicles, coffee, and tuna fish too,
A steak so raw, it could have said moo.
She even ate our last lima bean,
So thoughtless is she, being so mean.

So, naturally I was fearful for my little cobbler,
What with being so close to a gluttonous food gobbler.
I had just finished my last office report,
When I had a hankering for something sweet of a sort.

Into the break room I did walk,
Seeing others snacking and having a talk.
To the fridge I did go, opening it wide,
But alas, my cherry cobbler was not inside.

The cherry stained napkin still sat on the shelf,
But the luscious pastry was gone, leaving the pickle jar by itself.
I turned about, knowing who was to blame,
Midge ate my cobbler, had she no shame?

Out I was going to storm, to lay down the law,
When my boss walked in, Mongoose Macaw.
“Bad news folks,” he announced, “I got a call from Bill,
Midge can’t come to work today, she is far too ill.”

Stunned was I to hear such shocking news,
Midge was not here, yet my cobbler I still did loose.
If she not the culprit, then who took my dessert?
A fellow coworker, maybe Ernie or Burt?

I glanced behind, at those sitting close and nearby,
A cobbler thief, one of them, but who and why?
I resolved to find out, and have justice be done.
Have them pay me back for the cobbler, two dollars plus one.

But quite a challenge, I still had to do,
To find the offender, where, when, and who.
Those in the room, the most likely of the lot.
Perhaps Danny, he was young and a sneaky sort of sot.

First though, evidence I wanted to gather,
So, over to the garbage bid I casually did swagger,
But no, no remnants of my cobbler, not even a trace,
Who had taken it, who was two-face?

“Say,” I called aloud, speaking calm and slow,
“My cherry cobbler’s missing; where did it go?
There was a little muttering, my question they avoid,
But none looked more guilty than jittery old Lloyd.

I stood right by him, and put my hand on his arm,
“You can tell me, what would be the harm?
I felt him shiver, no doubt wracked in guilt,
His resolve I was beginning to feel to tilt.

“I didn’t eat it,” he stated with fear,
“I don’t even like cherries, nor pizza, nor beer,”
“But Midge is not at the office,” I pointed out,
“So, someone else took it, of that there can be no doubt.”

“I don’t care who has taken it, to eat their fill,
But I do mind that I’m the one who is stuck with the bill.
I just want the dough, if you’d pardon my pun,
The money for the cobbler, two dollars plus one.

Even with the promise, of no grudges there would be,
Silence was all I got, from my six coworkers, plus three.
“I have ways of finding out,” I assured them all,
“Security cameras will tell the truth, and ensure your fall.”

This warning was grim, but still there was no answer,
“Fine,” said I, “then I’ll take it up with Mr. Prancer.
He was, of course, the guard stationed on our floor,
He had access to cameras, computer files, and more.

As I turned, some whispers I heard them share,
But then a small cry, which broke through the air.
“Please don’t call him,” a shrill voice spoke,
“I took your cobbler,” it continued with a sob and a choke

Looking around, it was sweet Leslie, who had confessed,
A least likely suspect, an issue I had not addressed.
“I’m so sorry but it just looked so good,
I would have stopped myself, had only I could.”

The poor girl, was nearly breaking out in tears,
My threat to call security, had only fed on her fears.
“Calm down,” I told her, my voice calm and mellow,
“I’ll not call security; I’m not that kind of fellow.”

“I did not mean to frighten you, please calm down,
“It’s just cherry cobbler, after all, there’s no need to frown.”
Her tears tapered off, and she gave me a smile,
“I doubt I’ll eat cherry cobbler again, or at least not for a while.”

So, all was well, and wouldn’t you know,
The two of us went on a date, to Quinton’s Row
We dined on good food, and for dessert, why, I’m sure you can deduce
A wonderful cherry cobbler, smothered in cherry juice

But when I tried to pay, she gave her head a shake
“My treat,” she told me, “for eating your cherry cake.”
I protested, but at last, the argument she won,
To pay for dinner and a cobbler, twenty dollars…plus one.