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Ballad Food Poems | Ballad Poems About Food

These Ballad Food poems are examples of Ballad poems about Food. These are the best examples of Ballad Food poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |


Springs around the corner
what wondrous things we'll see,
bulbs popping up above the ground
giving joy to you and me,
time to tidy up our plot, lots of digging too,
weeds to pull, beds to hoe
lots of things will have to go. 
You have to be a little brave
if that rose you want to save,
but you will learn that over time
you've got to be cruel,  just to be kind,

The flower beds need a tidy
take all that dead stuff off the top,
veg plots being well dug over
hoping for a bumper crop.

Seeds to sow, hope they'll grow !
then the lawn will need a mow.

And when all the hard work is done
you can sit back and be pleased, 
wind , rain and sun you have grown all you need.

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She smells of stale garbage and wine
Her boots all worn and tattered
Stern-faced and stony eyes
Dressed in a tired ol' mink
She shivers as she takes a rest
From pushing her metal cart
Squeaking and overflowing with
Items reflecting her life
She had been warned twice to move
The choice was not hers to make

Today, like all the others
She will walk ten blocks or so
In hope to find a warmer place
To lay down for the night
Just a corner to rest
Is all she will be needing
She knows this will be over soon
The pain gets worse each day
Yet, her hopes live on for one more day
Her deliverance is on its way!


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The Spaghetti Man

On Wednesday nights there is action in Midtown...
A unique opportunity to serve the Lord has been found.

About a minute past dark the homeless can be seen...
They are looking for food and a good meal is their dream.

A bowl of spaghetti tastes like a banquet meal...
And to some, a hot roll is even a big deal.

The Spaghetti Man and His friends are making their rounds...
And hungry people being fed makes joyful sounds.

A blanket, a pair of socks or even a trash bag...
A clean towel is much better than an old dirty rag.

The Spaghetti Man and his friends are on the streets to serve...
Showing love and compassion without any reserve.

Jesus is with them in Midtown on a dark Wednesday night...
He is part of the team and He is making things right.

This Homeless Chef is touching a life or two...
And he covets the prayers from me and you.


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Crunchy golden brown potatoes
Cut unevenly into strips sticks
One maybe half, one and two inches long
Best eaten after freshly fried

So thus us, creations of God
Unequal to wit, might and talents
Yet, daily equip in battle of growing
Not on failing but succeeding

The fries eaten plain or flavored
So is man simple and favored
The fries a fine finger food
So is man by nature is born good

Either served on plate or pouch
Us humans ready to serve and touch
Sometimes bitten bit or whole
Us humans molded clever or fool

by: olive_eloi


Details | Ballad | |


A cup of coffee we met
Miles of ride we went
Ideas, opinions we vent
Few minutes we spent

On the coolness of the light
I heard laughter so dear
High up staring to the skies
Picture of you not a liar

You play jolly to quiet songs
Asking me sometime what wrong
Fallen short yet been long
I didn't know, we can get along

by: olive_eloi


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Ode To A Hot Dog

Oh frankfurter, grilled up with bun,
How dost these words make spirits run?
Thy rich aroma summons me
To hot dog stands most frequently.

Though price may change from Queens to Rome,
Thy cost is low right near my home;
With skin as red as true love’s lips,
That tastes so good with Coke and chips. 

I pileth on thy meat for thrills,
Some onion, slaw and kosher dills;
But better taste there’s none to find,
Than Georgia hots with tender rind.

To eat thee fried with bacon spear
While taste buds strike yon stratosphere; 
Or joined with home-cooked chili cheese -
No man alive resisteth these.

For every time my mouth doth bite
Thy juicy shank, my heart takes flight;
While flavors springeth up inside,
As hunger pangs are satisfied.

And with each savory succulent joy, 
My mind drifts back, when I’m a boy -
To that first bite my taste wouldst spark, 
While watching baseball in the park.

Copyright - By Paul Ray

Details | Ballad | |

Ham versus Hog

Let me tell you a story
From a time gone by
The tale of a greedy butcher
And a pig that could fly

In the little village of Piddle Brook
There lived a butcher named Mr.Ham
He was bearded, bulky, and a belcher
And was rumored to eat his own toe jam

A lover of all meat
Pork,beef,duck,chicken, and mutton
All this gorger did was eat
He was a professional glutton

But Mr.Ham’s appetite was not satisfied 
He longed for some thick greasy bacon
Just a few strips, nicely fried
Served with pickled daikon

He peeked through his window 
And with one beady eye 
Spotted his neighbors hog
And pictured a flaky pork pie

His mouth watered
"What a delicious midnight snack!"
"I will barbecue,braise and fry her"
"But first I will launch my attack"

"Oh but I shan’t become a thief!"
"T’was only a whim!"
But Mr.Ham’s thin scruples vanished
His growling belly got the better of him

He grabbed a pitchfork
And the hefty hooligan set out
He advanced on the sleeping hog
And grabbed her by the snout

Her piggy eyes shot open
And in a flash
She darted past the butcher
And ran past the fence in a dash

Mr.Ham bellowed in rage
And waddled after the beast
But the pig was too quick
Yet Mr.Ham never ceased

And so the chase continued
A wild game of cat and mouse
They ran through the streets
Row upon row,house after house

Finally the swine was cornered
The escaped pig let out a squeal
And great feathery wings sprouted from her back
Said the pig “Thou shalt not steal” 

And with one final snort
Two leaps and a hop
The winged sow flew away
And Mr. Ham collapsed with a plop

"I suppose it was a sign from above"
Mr.Ham sighed with defeat
From then on the rotund carnivore
Gave up on eating meat

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Adieu Fair Pumpkin

A white pumpkin, how sublime
before the falling snow,
I'll warm the oven just in time
And in our tummies go!

So dear, so clear so virginal
This fair squash of thine
To take a sharpened knife at all
To it seems such a crime!

I turn it this way and then that
I cut its top and grin
I know just where that tin’s at
The one I’ll put it in…

Ah white pumpkin you’re bid adieu
As into your core I bore
Just as sweet and so yummy too
I’d ask for another encore!

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It is...within the tiny things of early morning, that moment breaths alive, it is within the tiny whisperings, that a melodye the very dear and the antelope, play home on the range.

so goes the melodye of heart beat, that plays quietly the songs of soul,

here a rhyme is born of day-light coming so soon, through the early morning eyes of the moon-light, and the starry dreams of twilight's transitioning...

into the light of a love letter written to dawn.

soul to soul conversing, as in this love letter, the letters just join hands with the words and just march across the sky...and at the end of the rainbow, there be plenty of golden time,

way down deep on the inside, the inspired choir, of a bumble bee, or a butterfly, starts to sing, like tiny things that live,

flower to flower,
blossom to bloom,

watered and deeply cared for...

O' Eden.

I say, deep beneath the surface of a wishing well...where the pennies lay,

I wish a sun-rise.

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The Goat Cheese Craving Disease

A clever work indeed,
But you must really need,
Either a doctor or a goat,
It's up to you to vote,

In this poem you come acrostic,
To shepherds as diagnostic
As a woman a tad too caustic,
Of their herd's fruit a bit bombastic

I think they see with herder's eye,
You had too much Shepherd's Pie!!

Ha! Ha!

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I want to create & bake
A cake, I want to make
Flavor of which one?
Help me find the best one

Chocolate - My ultimate favorite
I searched for ingredients
I gather one by one in a wreath
Taking notes on other reagents

As I mixed, blend and fold
Smile touches the ends of my lips
When I'm done; I put into a mold
Licking some mix on my fingertips..

I don't like to decorate
Neither do I like to garnish
All I want is to top and allocate
Allocate and made with love and happiness

Indeed, anyone who'll bite 
Such bitter sweetness clings 
He, she, you: I'll invite
Quite luscious in devouring

by: olive_eloi

Details | Ballad | |



12 to watch, the number of souls to save
this morning on the globe…above our goals God
soars so fine, so oblique as to hamper all that
follows; He hastens forth this day as moments tick
by our folly; for gathered in the midst of all towering graces are four who know the way –
brethren, but three are
bound to silence this question: 
How does he let this pass?
With one deep breath, life will hearken you,
Answer you with ancestral deep regret,
Your offspring’s sterling moments,
Your present second’s lasting debt…
What thought holds the key to decipher such codes
And warnings? What succinct wish pulls all syntax from
Oh, too many nagging questions. Let’s just agree to this:
One day you hold solid mass between your teeth, the next
It lays in splendor at your feet; today it carries you forward
Unto another day, another night, another way of being;
That is law, that is truth,
That is faith unseeing.

Details | Ballad | |


In and out like that of a play
His wound now bore a mysterious clay
The Capitan’s voice made him stay
As he bowed now in silence to pray

As he awoke in the morn he slips
A water glass to his dry sweet lips
The witch doctor smiled and came to grips
To the startled son that time forgets

Smells of food ensnared his hunger
A bellow followed its sound was thunder
“Morning child! A hungry monger?”
The boy sat up his food placed under

Hot rolls, sliced ham, and sausage links
“A bath today, this boy now stinks!”
The captain agrees to what doc now thinks
To wash away the blood that leaks

His wound stung when the water struck
A model ship and a rubber duck
Shared the tub, the lads in luck
Red Beards love has finally struck

Details | Ballad | |



So seldom does this word prevail;
How shall it seek you too?
Seldom is a spark renewed,
Ephemeral and divine it appears;
Its light seems certain to no purpose;
Like sparklers in the brain,
They thrive in numbers but exist
No longer than thought sublime;
Seldom do they stay,
They only drift and shine towards decay.

Details | Ballad | |

Oh Little Sundae Dipper

Oh Little Dipper Dipper,
what are you dipping for?
the sweetly vast vanilla seas,
or ginger cookie shores?

Oh little starlit ladle,
what swirls within your cup?
a batch of cotton candy clouds
you gently gathered up?

Or maybe licorice lava, cooled
from swaying in the night.
Or maybe bits of sour sun
and rays of lemon light.

Oh little diamond dipper,
if something tipped your tin,
would sugar flakes begin to fall?
would chocolate rain descend?

If ice cream comets tumbled,
be they pink or white or brown,
I wouldn't wear my boots or coat,
nor would I wear a frown.

'Cause Little Sundae Dipper, dad
and I believe that that's okay--
'cause everything's worth dipping for within our Milky Way!

Details | Ballad | |

2007 hybrids in snow evergreen peaches

sour not good dorment salt good urines good tree smell like
paint and urine cat smell and people and you taste urine in
mount all the time people, pick semi freezen store plant
when first flower and cover if need with plastic, need shade
stop cuting down all trees in jungle plants and trees the
sun is burning small plants need tree and plant first in door
then plant big to stand weater, keep some crops underground
one to two years incase of weather and use as needed, all
urine smell like that some time, its also in a food, it won't 
hurt you I don't think so because its in urine and after smell
twenty years later I am still alive.

Details | Ballad | |

The Goats' Invasion

The alarm shouted on my ear
The day is six thirty a.m young so is the air

I prostrate twiceand pray
To God to make me a predator and not a prey

I dust the house and mob the floor
Wash the plates as there is no flaw

I fed the poultry and allow them to reign
Spread the grains as there is no rain

I fetch petrol and ten buckets of water
Wash the car as i leave the warming till later

My mum cooks beans and ot corn-pap
It encouraged me as it makes me clap

I am told to direct and deliver a message orally
I am so tired as i got it aurally

I run madly and i conveyed it to the Wright
His dog gave me a chase as the message was not right

I walk home gently and i aim not to blunder
I think I am dead as i thought of nought save hunger

Without feeding back i took my brush and my bath
Half naked i dashed to the kitchen as i have damned the earth

As my mouth watereth hunger was my mood
But Lo! the Goats ate my food.

Details | Ballad | |


when i look at you,you make me sick
maybe it was something i ate
something on my plate did n't taste to great
i think i'm going to throw up

bridge  nasiated nasiated yeah x3  

i think my nirves are shot 
theres an uneasy feeling i've got

i know whats wrong & whats right
something in my stomach is n't sitting to tight

verse 2
was it that stew or maybe that rice
whatever it is it does n't feel to nice
i don't give a f@#$ about this food 
try and keep myself from an upchuck

bridge  nasiated nasiated yeah x3 

i think my nirves are shot 
theres an uneasy feeling i've got

i know whats wrong & whats right
something in my stomach is n't sitting to tight

hope i can run fast enough
it's going to be a little tough
the contins of my stomach is kinda rough
at the towel i up chuck this stuff

bridge  nasiated nasiated yeah x3 

i think my nirves are shot 
theres an uneasy feeling i've got

Details | Ballad | |

One of our First Lady's World 2007

Red Lady,delight, Lady beautiful of heart, Blue Lady
of America, give her your meek, your poor, sick,
isn't that what President Nixon said, to world about
his mother his mentor, his Country, May I, Mrs,
Nixon write about your son and family to honor
us a time of great adversity in America we and
God need you once again, Four score the 
seven years, seven days he feed us look
what they say about him. May we give you a 
Mother 's day card from America,  America
2007 and his last request in office is being
granted for Liberty and Justice for all even
The first Lady Presidents family of USofA

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Pork Skins

Some people eat them plain, some with hot sauce
They buy no matter what the cost
They have swept the nation, have become a craze
If not on the shelves, customers call it a disgrace
It is said that gluttony is a sin
But no one cares, they just want their pork skins
Someone said with soy sauce they are pretty good
A new flavor coming out soon, smoked over hickory wood
Try them with jalepeno and cheddar dip
KC Masterpiece may be the trick
So I say let the party begin
Can't have a party without pork skins
The skins finally arrive
The party comes alive
The girls flock around the designated potato chip bowl
They begin to fight over the contents, this party is way out of control
After the bruises, bloody noses and broken bones, the last one standing wins
For the victor comes the spoils, her own bowl of pork skins
This here was a limited time offer
The victor just happened to be a sailor's daughter
Keep in mind that we are from the south
We are extremely careful what kinds of food we put in our mouths
The stores just can't keep them on the shelves
If I could, I would have them all to myself
In Laura Ingalls' days they were served in a tin
Even Laura couldn't go without her pork skins

Details | Ballad | |

The Terror of Tootsie Town

In the age old refrigerator
A huge Tootsie Roll did reign
All the fruits and vegetables
Thought he was most insane
Too sweet, too dark, too strong
as all the other food could see
And though he knew that it was wrong
He beat up a poor old onion
Till everyone did cry
Was it sorrow, or onion-burning
the real real reason why?

Well Tootsie had to travel
Promised to some fair maiden I am told
So he hopped on his Tootsie-cycle
Thank God he was just that bold

But on his Tootsie-cycle
He lost his paper wrap
Now the maiden would never touch him
He felt like such a sap!

He finally got to the maiden's homesite,
Having suffered greatly from the heat
Half melted, and chocolate oozing
No one would ever eat

So Tootsie Terror went back home
into his refrigerator cold
But now only half a Tootsie,
He dare not be so bold

Ambushed by a wild pack of pickles
Poor Tootsie was sorely beat
Now Tootsie would surely be
A Tootsie none would eat...

Sometimes, fate, it seem so fickle
as here with the rotten, evil pickle
Twists and turns can fool you
So stay in the fresh food drawer
And if more pickles try to strike
Tell them that you'd truely swore
Your Tootsie Gang from Shar's
You really did there call
And if they want to rumble
Those pickle had better watch
'Cause you and your tootsie buddies
Will surely, surely maul.

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Bubba Spent the Night

Our son asked can a friend stay over
He just moved here from dover
The friend says tonight's Friday, usually we have pig's innards
He says my name is Cleetus Billy Joe Jim Bob Jones, after he stutters out his 
name, it's time for dinner
But you can call me Bubba, he seems very polite
I pray no nightmares as Bubba spends the night
I tell him we are having Makerel Cakes and Mac and Cheese
He says I will take four cakes and two helpings if you please
Boy you sure do have an appetite
I tell my son our budget won't allow Bubba to ever again spend the night
Soon dinner is over and Bubba still wants to eat
I grab a funnel and melted bacon fat and tell him to have a seat
He says we eat fatback soup sometimes on a weekday
He tells me the doctor tells his whole family, that sometime their arteries will turn 
to clay
bubba says I don't eat for calories, I eat for taste
I tell Bubba, if you keep eating like that you will become hazardous waste
He laughs and cheers in delight
This all happened when Cleetus Billy Joe Jim Bob Jones spent the night
At 2 am he asks for a snack
I give him a sleeve of Ritz crackers and a pound of Monterey Jack
I hand him a jar of Grey Puopon
He says after I eat this, there may be trouble in your john
He smiles and asks for a Diet Coke
I try to watch my health, I don't drink or smoke
Eight more hours, then our budget will be alright
He asks when is the next time I can spend the night

Details | Ballad | |


It may sound foolish or even insane
to have a wish for richness or fame,
and it's perfectly normal and human 
to long for things we don't have;
but it's morally wrong to use them
against others...for one's greed and gain!

That conviction comes from inside,
uncovering the unclearness of doubt...
without being afraid of answers so dark;
faith seems worthless without a vision in the mind..
be persistent in seeking gold with an enormous risk,
and many will try a thousand times until they find it! 

A small seed will grow into a rich harvest...
sun-nurtured and rain-quencher before sunset,
and all these things you desire
are obtained through prayer;
don't heed the cynic's advice:
push forward  with endless stride!

A wish for richness has different motives,
discard the unworthy ones, consider the good ones;
curiousity and effort make people successful,
'till their empty basket is completely full!
Never did I see  believers struggle for food;
it was given because they bow down to a true God! 

Real food comes from the fertile earth,
those who eat it will not know early death;
millions of people die from man-made diseases:
cigarettes, drugs, alchool, and promiscuous sex;
if these are to continue, there'll be no one left!  

Be considerate of others...don't do anything
you don't want to be done to yourself;
have the kindest heart overflowing with giving:
never stop at anything, if someone laughs;
your determination is the result of dedication:
let all watch and envy you for your perception!       

Details | Ballad | |

Spinster's List

this very troubled old maid
so beaten down by life
wanted nothing so but not to fade
without being someone's wife

but until that time came about,
she had no choice but to carry on
and when she needed bad some groceries
to me she depended on, and hence you have this yarn...

just give me Spinster's list
and money to pay for it all
I run down to the supermarket,
I mean, this is what she needed, this is why the call...

I'm no big fan of big food shopping,
it's really too much a bore,
I'd far rather go bar hopping,
than spend hours in the store

but she needed me to help
I could never turn her down
she really was a nice lady,
I couldn't bear to see her frown

so off I go in search,
of the food she so much needed,
and back again an hour or two later
it could of been much longer,
but I had really speeded

someday, I sort'a wonder...
will someone shop for me?
If so, one thing will be different...
I'll, for him, how it felt to be.

Details | Ballad | |

Salvaging a Future

He bobs his head as he offers a plate
Only the best that fell out of the crate
His morsels of trash still serve to entice
Grilled chicken and rice without all the price
Once that flesh has been shredded from the bone
He'll boil those bits down to steep for his own
There's nary an item he won't reuse
To save all that cash he'd otherwise lose

He's dumpster-diving Matt, the salvage man
Seeking to utilize all that he can
Whether gym shorts, veggies or raisin bran
He'll scoop your refuse to sustain his clan

While watching his neighbor blindly consume
Matt ponders why such waste should be our doom
Instead of striving to buy that campaign
Working seven jobs while running insane
Drop out of the race with grubby face grace
And slow down the pace by raiding their trace
He smiles as he melts down all of the cheese
Trusting his nose while plodding on with ease

Matt never longs for what he doesn't find
No matter how badly he gets maligned
You might believe his methods aren't refined
While tossing all of your treasures behind

Without concern for the date on the back
He sees only freshness within that pack
A liberal knife shall carve away rot
Before he tosses those stalks in the pot
Even those discards get put to good use
As compost for growing future produce
His consciousness rings out with clarity
Allowing him to grant pure charity

Rather than let the fruit spoil on the vine
Matt struggles to ascertain the divine
His splendid hunt rubs polish on his shine
As faith and substance embrace to combine