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Frying Pan

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Below is the poem entitled Frying Pan which was written by poet Keith Bickerstaffe. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Frying Pan

Many springs have come and gone,
the city roars and wheezes,
concrete monsters block the prospect
and restrict the balmy breezes.

Summers stifle, streets are steaming,
hydrants bring some small relief,
merchants battle with the street gangs,
struggle on in blind belief.

Canyons strangle, subways throttle,
autumn bleeds in red and gold,
chilly now as winter beckons
with its shroud of killing cold.

Jersey beckons 'cross the river,
yet another frying pan,
in the cauldron of convection,
cradle of the modern man.

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  1. Date: 3/24/2013 6:50:00 PM
    Dear Keith - This is absolutely perfect in meter and rhyme. You haven't missed a beat. Hot town - summer in the city love, Kathy

  1. Date: 3/9/2013 4:11:00 AM
    Excellent your lines are,10 stars always.Best wishes,Tracyxo

  1. Date: 3/7/2013 9:47:00 PM
    That's just what being in a city feels like to me.... great poem....I'll keep home on the range!!!! :-)

  1. Date: 3/7/2013 8:33:00 PM
    You have written an outstanding and creative write here my friend! What a masterful poem, such a delight to read this evening! And such truth with your piece, may Spring finally reach us again! Great Work!!