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Love Food Poems | Love Poems About Food

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

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Details | Villanelle | |

Date Night (and the day after)

Opening line from "Highway Five Love Poem" by Ruth L. Schwartz


This is a love poem for all the tomatoes
I squished to make our Date-Night spaghetti.
Our love, like the pasta, was shiny.  So the story goes.

We sit at our table, between us a rose
Red as the marinara I chose.  (He let me).
This is a love poem for all our tomatoes.

We watch the steam, which the mouth quickly blows
Away (like the wind and those petals the day he met me).
Our love, like the pasta, was sticky.  So the story goes.

We sip our red wine.  Chianti, it has a good nose.
(In the morning, do you think he will regret me?)
This is a love poem.  For all our tomatoes

Are gone, just as the wine hides grapes squished by toes
in authentic California vineyards.  (You get me?)
Our love, like the pasta, was steamy.  So the story goes.

We finish our meal with gestures the other knows.
(I wonder if he'll someday forget me.)
This isn't a love poem for all our tomatoes.
Our love, like our pasta, was al dente.  So our story goes.

Copyright © Erin Moss | Year Posted 2006

Details | Bio | |

All about Dan

So you want to get to know me, ok, well here goes. Most of it's in my poetry, but I may have left something out, who knows? For the last twenty years, I've been wearing Nike high tops that are black. They're alot easier to clean then white ones, that is a definite fact. My friends all seem to like me, and I greet them all with a big smile. I've met alot of them through a life of partying, but now thats been over for awhile. My favorite book is the bible, because whenever I read it I learn something new. My favorite movie I couldn't really tell you, since I have seen oh, quite a few. My favorite song is from Tim McGraw, it's "Live Like You Were Dying" In a funny kind of way it refreshes my soul, and I usually end up crying. Favorite singer I don't really have one, so I guess it would have to be myself. Because I just love it when I sing all the words, and don't need anyones help. My hair is a dirty blond thats straight,short and very fine. It doesn't have a single curl, and I know it's all still mine. My favorite shampoo is Pert, it leaves my hair so silky smooth. With the fine and thining hair that I have, it's the one I prefer to use. My favorite food is pizza, but fresh baked bread is my favorite smell. If I had a food I'd eat everyday, that is the one that would put me through hell. I have everything I need,with only a few things that I dislike. The only thing I want or really need, is the love of my loving wife.
Dan Kearley:5-25-12 Contest:All About ____???

Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

COOKIES

Now they say that girls are made of sugar
And spice, but good girls finish last my friend.
For there is one truth for all women kind,
Come hell or high water we will fight
For our right to indulge ourselves in 
The need for perfections greatest
Confections, COOKIES!!!
Yes we will take down that cookie
Puppet clown, dressed in blue,
For there is no fiercer monster known
To man, then a women who’s cookie
Faddish is left unsatisfied.
Peanut butter to chocolate chip,
Just pass the milk and watch out dude,
For women shall be the first to dip.
Call us the two fisted women of the 
Raw dough generation, we don’t 
Really care, just pass grandma’s old 
Cookie jar.
Roll me down the bakery sweet, 
No fragrance smells finer then freshly
Baked what ladies, COOKIES.
Sugar me sweet it’s the ladies favorite
Treat, by the bucket or truck load it can’t
Be beat, frosted or plain, it matters not,
But without Milk its sacrilege that is
No doubt!!
Now chocolate maybe the vise five to
Seven days a month, but cookies rule
As the male race drools, because honey
There is no doubt women will take you
Don’t for what, lets all say it ladies around
The world, all together now, SAY WHAT
COOKIES!!!!!!
By the way did I tell you my favorite
Food in the world, of course it’s very
Obvious, COOKIES!!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
DEDICATED TO POET DESTROYER
And to all women

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Senryu | |

Ripe Mango

your presence is:
sweeter than a ripe mango
filling to the soul

© Joseph, 6/11/08
© All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2008

Details | Nonet | |

Onion Love

Oh, pungent onion, large, sweet and fried in golden rings, diced, sauteed for casseroles or grilled with meats; tossed raw into my greens! I love you so, that when I slice your skin, I’m the one that weeps!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

Ice Cream

Vanilla bean skin,
Cool sweet breath and cherry lips
Make kissing dessert.

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Onion of Passion - A Blitz Poem for Poetry Soup

Onion of Passion (A Blitz Poem for Poetry Soup)

Start with an idea
Start with an onion

Onion on a cutting board
Onion from the crisper drawer

Drawer of firm vegetables
Drawer of future soup

Soup to feed the poet’s soul
Soup to cure the common cold

Cold days feeling uninspired
Cold nights feeling over tired

Tired of the same same same
Tired of this empty feeling

Feeling compulsive
Feeling hungry

Hungry for a poem to come
Hungry for some hearty soup

Soup flavored with Whitman’s marrow
Soup that starts with his sort of rawness

Rawness of starchy emotion
Rawness of aromatic images

Images of stiff green celery stalks
Images of bright chunked carrot snips

Snips sautéing in olive oil (dash of salt!)
Snips of memory softening

Softening and blending into metaphors
Softening with those onions now translucent

Translucent as distant dreams
Translucent as childhood kisses

Kisses snuck behind the bushes or
Kisses from great grandma

Grandma gave this life recipe
Grandma said to let things simmer

Simmer with love like chicken stock
Simmer then add the bag of herbs

Herbs are like adjectives
Herbs like just the right verbs

Verbs of action rather than being
Verbs like heat and sear and cook and flavor

Flavor the soup
Flavor for sharing

Sharing ourselves
Sharing is why

Why we cook these chunky poems
Why we cook anything

Anything at all
Anything  with passion

Passion and heart
Passion pulsing

Pulsing…
Heart…

Copyright © Robert Keim | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sestina | |

MIRACLE AT DAWN

No mother would fill up her eyes with tears of woman...
if it weren't for God performing a miracle at dawn,
as she cried out in joy and held her baby in trembling arms
but shed many sweet tears hearing his laughter so loud;
oh, he couldn't see her mommy's face through his tiny eyes,
and it will be long before he'll will utter the first word, " Mom." 

Now that baby sleeps under the attentive look of his mom,
who's too young to become a mature woman;
many visions of this birth crossed her gleeful eyes
she dreamed of the very same words whispered at each dawn,
repeating them in her silly head as if they sounded too loud...
while cradling a pretty doll in her folded arms.

Will she be welcomed home by her parents opening their arms?
Will they reprimand her and not consider her a legal mom?
Perhaps they will not be angry and speak not so loud:
girls are supposed to be girls, not suddenly turn into woman...
So this innocent girl, deceived by a bad boy, must wake up at dawn
when her baby cries and feed him with scary, childish eyes?

Nights seem longer for her, trying to stay awake rubbing her eyes,
what she beheld in those exciting eyes, now it's a burden in her weary arms;
she remembers that pain was too unbearable, but joy more sublime at dawn...
how will she learn how to care for the infant by watching her mom?
She must have seen a nursery or read a book how to think like a real woman,
and can anyone imagine how she keeps that secret instead of revealing it loud?

She must gather enough courage inside to feed her baby who can't cry loud,
but for now she must carry that baby without sighs of distress into her bright eyes;
and her parents can see the changes making her a loving person already woman;
they may ask questions to why she has gained weight and holds dolls in her arms...
no, they aren't anticipating great news and in doubt, they await a splendid dawn.

Mother and daughter closely together amazed by the coming dawn,
any concealed secret can be easily spoken...somewhat joyful and loud;
they imagine the infant's futures will be part of grandma and mom!
Their reunited hearts come together to show love in their delighted eyes,
and they'll take turns feeding the new-born, tenderly lulling him in their arms;
what if forgiveness hadn't been there to deny her all of the joys of woman?

Would a mother deny her daughter compassion as a good woman?
Even God hurried dawn to offer that gift into her gracious, tender arms...
and those arms accepted it with the gentleness and kindness of mom.



Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? | |

Sister -- a poem in 2 parts

            I.

End-Cut Prime Rib of Beef,  
Crab-cake, Lobster Tail,
Sea Scallops.

I feel — no — need to, 
eat those foods 
you asked I get you. 

So I scour the internet 
for upscale Manhattan 
restaurant menus, listing, 
first and foremost,
roast prime rib of beef, 

confident, if I find that, 
the seafood items 
will appear on at least one 
of them, also. 

It’s the Post House,
on East 63rd Street,
that has everything.
And, on this day, 
the 1st anniversary
of your death, 

I’m eating the foods 
you craved, yet, I do not 
savor a morsel. But 
not to worry, Renee, 

for next year, same
date, I’ll try again, and 
maybe, just maybe, 
I’ll find it easier to enjoy 
what you surely would have, 

if only I’d realized there was 
no time left. No time left, 
as I held your hand and 
watched American Idol.

while you morphed into what-
ever it is one becomes 
at death. 


              II.

I muse if Robert Frost
had taken the other road, 
would he have moved to
England, where 
his poetry was a hit
from the get-go; 

would he have remained, 
the constant farmer, or 
teacher, or journalist
he been, rather than 

the bard who'd crafted 
the simplest words 
into mysterious, 
memorable poems; 

and the father who
couldn’t prevent 
his children’s deaths; 

not the husband 
who couldn’t keep
his wife from sinking 
deep into depression.

Renee, every day, since
your death, I think about 
what I could’ve done 
and should not have done 
as your sister, your twin. 

How I’d sat on my laurels 
and let you navigate 
on your own, with me 
never wholeheartedly
trying to steer away
from conflict with you. 

Me, who found it too hard
staying involved in that life 
of yours. Truth be told, 
if I'd seen two diverging roads 
to choose from, way back when 

— neither the worse for wear, 
I would’ve sought you out — 
asked you which one you’d take 
if you were me, and surely 
I’d have taken the other.









Copyright © Ruth Sabath Rosenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Love a pie day

Steak pies is my favourite  to eat with vegetables for dinner
With succulent pastry which couldn't be thinner

Meat and gravy are cooked in unison
Making this pie a lip smacking tasty one

Dessert what more could I ask for, I love
a Bramley Apple pie cooked with a clove

The flavour is one to die for, 
With lovely creamy custard, over it pour

Now it's nearly supper time what pie takes the lead
Nothing more than a Cornish pasty its a nearly pie indeed

Inside some  tiny cubes of potatoes and swede mixed with onion and meat
Looks longingly at the clock, is it time yet for this treat

Goes to bed repleted, full of pasty and such
Dreams of pies and pasties, would think i've had enough.
 

Copyright © SEREN ROBERTS | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

My Dilemma of Soup, or No Love For The Crackers

Oh, nicker.  Oh, nacker.
I broke my poor cracker
While putting it in my soup.
I just wanted a nibble,
But the soup had to quibble,
And thus all my plans turned to poop.

So now I'm here sittin'
A poor man quite smitten
With no other crackers to spare,
On soup that's unlawful,
So twisted and awful,
That it kills with no thought and no care. 

Why can't it relate,
And learn not to hate,
My crunchy, crisp wafers of bread,
It would have much more fun
Not to mention for one,
My crackers won't all end up dead.

I suppose it’s too much
To ask soup for such
A commitment to love other food.
But till its attitude mends,
And it learns to make friends,
I believe that my crackers are screwed.

Copyright © Jason Klaiber | Year Posted 2005

Details | Epulaeryu | |

Your Thanksgiving Turkey - Dear


A Gourmet Dark Chocolate A wanting palate Just a taste the rest you'll need Melted yes indeed Apply to privates Great for diets Feed!
25~10~2014 Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich Contest Name: MAKE ME DROOL with EPULAERYU I Hope You're Drooling This Year I Am Your Chocolate Covered Turkey

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric | |

Hot Fudge Sundae

Drizzled chocolate ~
On a scoop of melting ice cream
Melting from the heat
Of delicious decadence
She brings the crisp color
Of his cream to it’s full splendour 
Atop his ivory mound
Is her exotic resting place
Gooey dribbles ~
Curve into fantastic erotica
Cooled into a perfect pose
Down vanilla slopes.

Copyright © Tammy Armstrong | Year Posted 2006

Details | Verse | |

Chocolate Pleasure

Will you,Eat me; eat me,
please, like A piece,
of Reese's Pieces, 
chocolate pleasure, 
I melt in your mouth, 
I am that Kit-Kat,
who will satisfy, 
your whatchamacallit, 
to make the Skor, on
Your Nutroll,
and go nutritiously,
 nutrageous, 
over my babyruth, 
for you are, that mounds,
of full almond joy..

Copyright © Carma Reed | Year Posted 2012

Details | Pantoum | |

A Womans Gift

She laughed as softly  as if she sighed
Her smile revealed things only I could see
My love and joy swelled up untill I cried
I wondered  though would she ever love me

Her smile revealed things only I could see
Now would I tell her of the things I thought
I wondered though would she ever love me
What is this feeling that has made me taut

Now would I tell her of  the things I thought
All other food but  love I'd surely spare
What is this feeling that has made me taut
My life I'd gently give to her  with care

All other food but love I'd surely spare
Then I would be hers and she would be mine
My life I'd gently give to her with care
I'd love her dearly throughout time

Then I  would be hers and she would be mine
A life together we would have to build
I'd love her dearly throughout time
I'd be her love, companion and her shield

A life together we would have to build 
My love and joy swelled up until I cried
I'd be her love,companion and her shield
She laughed as softly as if she sighed

Copyright © Charles Reese | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Red Wine (Reflection)

Have you ever had sweet strawberry wine?
    Delicious fruit from straight off the vine
       The heady taste….a love of mine
            Delicate and tempting me
              Of summer sun and free
                 Have a glass and see
                  Shimmers of light
                   Glimmers bright
                        Star sight                         
                          Drink
                           Pink
                         I might
                     dream delight
                   September night
                  Ah…this fantasy
             Of that crimson berry
        Two chilled glasses-you and me
      The heady taste….a love of mine
   Delicious fruit from straight off the vine
 Have you ever had sweet strawberry wine?



I call this form Reflection
Lines go from ten syllables down to one then one syllable back up to ten
With a rhyme scheme of aaa bbb ccc dd ccc bbb aaa and the first three lines
Are the same as the last three lines.
Inspired by Mr. Michaels original form contest

Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epigram | |

Your Recipe

.   

             Delicious, warm, and and tastes of home...

                        as if you were still here....

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Not Satisfied with Crumbs

I will NOT be satisfied with the crumbs
That fall from your banquet table of love
I’m here to have a gluttonous feast
Don’t….Don’t insult me with tiny morsels
You throw my way
To entice?
To tease?
To...appease???

I’m to sit at the head of the table
My rightful place
And eat and drink to my fill
To satiation’s upper limit
My heart and soul, YES, my BODY nourished
S A T S F I E D
With the eclectic fare of delicacies
You serve
For is that not
The kind of feast
You are used to having from me? 

I slave away for days on end
To prepare and offer to you, my King
The most scrumptious repast
And you leave MY banquet table
With the decadent savor 
Of my sweetness in your mouth

No, this will not do
Until you tempt my appetite
With the fairest of delights
Don’t you dare think
That these mere crumbs will do

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sijo | |

Coo, Coo, Coo

Early in the morning just beyond daybreak, the cooing of doves
Coo, coo, coo always in threes, conveying to its mate of his love
Soon sun will be higher, proof of love will begin with the feedings

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

At A Loss For Words

My mind sighs blackberries 
and a moonstruck melody 
plays along my spine 
as I soak up the fruited juice 
of I love you coloring your lips. 
The cherry blush of breathless, 
And a smile amid the wash 
Of blueberry eyes, should indicate 
My intended reply.

Copyright © maggie flanaganwilkie | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme | |

MAMMA ANNA MADE THE BEST BABBA' AL RHUM

Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum,
you should have seen me how it made me slightly drunk;
and jumping and screaming I danced to the beats of a drum...
then grandma joined in and she sang a classical song!


And the sweet cream was on my lips and cheeks, 
the Babba' al Rhum was delicious and I topped it with chocolate;
everybody began shouting, "It came from Paris,
but we Neapolitans reinvented it by improving its shape and taste!"


Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum, soaking it in that liqueur much longer;
and Papa' always told me to eat more of it...saying with a suppressing laughter,
"It's a man's dessert, after you eat it, you'll be strong!"
Oh, did he really tell me the truth? No, he was wrong!


It's so very sad that they aren't here,
and I am eating pretzels and drink a beer,
the harmony that stirred their passion can't possibly return...
as they danced on the terrace to celebrate the day I was born!


Mamma Anna knew how to make the best Babba' al Rhum,
and I licked the dripping rum with my finger...not my tongue!
She spoke calmly...when she should have gotten mad and picked up a broom;
no, she was never mean and rude, or ever said to me, " Go to your room!"

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010

Details | Senryu | |

Candle Light And Wine

Candle light and sweet wine
Dinner for two and soft music
A night made for love

Copyright © Vernette Hutcherson | Year Posted 2007

Details | I do not know? | |

Strawberry love

I am looking blindly into the fridge
Searching and savouring the chilled air, I reach in
Take hold of a strawberry and hand it to you.
Its body, fresh and pure can relax in your palm.
You are the keeper of my heart.

Its many eyes, black seeds that rest around
The waist, sleep in cycles, stare out into the darkness.
It remains on your flesh, Merges like a collage with the twists and bends.
As time passes, its chill dwindles. Harsh heat invades the creases.
Its natural form bleeds away in a sticky juice.

Copyright © Phil Naylor | Year Posted 2005

Details | I do not know? | |

You

Just a few more sips
And I'm loving the taste of you on my lips

I like the way you move in my mouth
And when you start to head down south

You are the one I love in deed 
Because Coca-Cola you're all I need.

Copyright © Shaina Billy | Year Posted 2006

Details | ABC | |

OF A VIRGIN GOD

Partly clad
full moon
was taking a bath on hills.
Trees were waiting
for the curtains to rise.

Scented stars would make
giant scars on the clouds,
I would make peace with the sky.
Lids of human greed were laden
with golden dust, I was hoisting the skull.

Of a virgin god who did not
want to live for the blotched up creation.
The decline was obvious. Truth 
had refused to climb
on the sky-blue, salted peaks of springs.

Body had arrived,
mourners quietly wailing.
Gouged eyes could not decipher
the script on the halved pyramid.
Sun was sucking the clay.


 
SATISH VERMA

Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse | |

Love, Yes Love

Never much money did my grandpa have,
but love, yes love, was all around,
his weathered skin, and calloused hands,
showed the world, he was a hardworking man.
With a tired old mule, he plowed his fields,
planting his crops, so all could have meals.
No Food Stamps way back then,
just neighbor helping neighbor, time, and again.
All the children had chores to do,
before the rooster crowed, before they left for 
school.
Five little children, their hair so white,
walking down a dirt road, imagine the sight.
.

Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2008

Details | I do not know? | |

That`s Just The Way It Is

Love is like sugary foods:
some people don`t need it at all!

Copyright © makala bell | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme | |

Break-up food

When I'm not in the mood
I eat break up food
And watch movies all night
Ruin my sight
Popcorn stuck in my braces
Slurp soda, make funny faces
Laugh at stupid stuff
When things are sad, I give a loud huff
But every emotion is defined
I'll watch movies of any kind
To make me laugh or cry
To help thoughts go away of... the guy
But man I love break up food
It really gets me in a good mood! :)

Copyright © Jen H. | Year Posted 2009

Details | I do not know? | |

My Cheesy Pizza Rolls

My cheesy pizza rolls 
Only you know 
About my love 
When i put on my glove
To take you out of 
That oven's steel fortress
Because you are hot 
I know i'm not
Going to burn my tongue 
Because i am still young
And i like my taste buds
So i will wait 
The ten minutes it takes 
On top of my stool
For you to cool
Cause of your boiling sweetness 
I am wanting more 
Than the smell of your
Melting four cheeses
One bite and i'm falling into pieces
Because you are
My cheesy pizza rolls

Copyright © Timothy Mullins | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Family Grief Family Happiness

  
   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
        
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
          
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John. 
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
         
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
        
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
        
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
        
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    
                       
              

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013