A Christmas dinner that can’t be beat
Here is the menu of what we’ll eat
Mashed potatoes whipped smooth and fluffy
Green bean casserole; nice and crunchy
Pickles and olives on a perfect relish tray
Cranberry delight that’s been chilling all day
Sweet potatoes such tasty treats
Hot rolls steaming both white and wheat
Homemade honey butter and strawberry jam
A gorgeous honey glazed Christmas ham
Turkey and noodles are piping hot
A fuzzy naval salad; I almost forgot
A slow roasted turkey golden brown
And broccoli rice casserole; pass it around
For dessert we’ve a variety of tasty treats
Tons of scrumptious goodies to eat
Chocolate chip cookies and brownies so sweet
Four kinds of pies including minced meat
It’s all there so fill up your plate
I’m getting mine, I can hardly wait
Copyright © Lena Townsend | Year Posted 2009
is the sugar.
Once worn to coat cookies
now just pinched and licked by fingers
Contest: A Quentin Christmas
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
We said our goodbyes in June,
and the months since blur into mist.
At unexpected moments, awareness
of loss hits; tears spill unbidden.
Family gathering, Christmas Eve
as usual . . . minus one.
We quietly exchanged gifts,
found flowers from her funeral
crafted into hand-made jewelry,
kaleidoscopes, treasured mementoes.
I cooked grapes today, dark muscadines.
I extracted seeds and peelings,
and measured life-sustaining juice
through the metal funnel she used
from the day of her marriage.
It came to me dented and bent,
like her body had been at 93.
I still taste those fresh-from-the-oven
chocolate rolls after school,
garden tomatoes warmed by the sun,
hot biscuits with apple jelly,
squeezed from the peelings after
she baked crisp slices in cinnamon-rich pie.
I'm glad I didn't know then,
about being allergic to Cinnamon.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
Along narrow streets,carol singing
Boxes rattling,lanterns swinging
A stocking hung for Santa to fill
waking too early was a thrill
Chicken killed as a special treat
Finding three-penny piece in our sweet
In England ,in our area at least this has not changed much in 60+ years
the 'chicken' maybe a turkey or a piece of beef even,the thtree-penny pieces are now 5p's
There is still street carol singing,albeit now for charity.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2008
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
To the cook:
Thank you for the main course at our beautiful Christmas dinner ......
now you can rest, dessert is on the table.
And I'll do the dishes.
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen | Year Posted 2012
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
Such a wondrous thing,
in the winter or in the spring.
So, doggone sweet
and a yummy treat.
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
Pluck the sweetest from the tree,
one, two, three, laughing with glee.
A flaky crust and sweet center,
eaten with ice cream who cares if winter.
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
Sugar and cinnamon, sticky sweet,
pop it in the oven, almost complete.
I cannot wait to have a slice, maybe two,
as one would scarcely do.
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
I cannot believe I did not share.
It was tasty on my tongue,
and now there is no more there,
not even a crumb.
That I have to post this upsets me:
My poems are copyright. I am sharing my
poems for you to read not for you to
post willy-nilly to a website, in
your newsletter or anywhere else with out
my permission. I am available, leave me a
message. Especially to those who change
the name of my poem and not give proper
credit. You should be ashamed!
Copyright © Alesia Leach | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
It's Christmas! Christmas!
That time of year
When people are filled...
With holiday cheer?
Yeah right. . .
I really do wish it were true
But people are people
Through and through
It's not about happiness anymore
Or in respect to what matters.
In reality it concerns what you get
And the food that is piled on the platters.
What has happened to the world of today?
Where is the 'loving and giving...'?
Now it is all just me, me, me.
Is this a nightmare? Or are we actually living.
Yep we might have a lot of things
Hang on! Let's add some more
It isn't the family that I'm expecting
But the postman knocking at the door.
When the topic turns to Christmas cheer
Lets go stuff our faces...
Break out all that lovely beer!
Chuck away those graces!
But... Suddenly the month is over
There go all the gifts you gave
Your debt payments crawl closer and closer
And you become a material slave.
Copyright © Annie De Lys | Year Posted 2012
On his annual flight about the earth,
Santa continues to expand his girth!
'Tis due to cookies and milk,
And other treats of that ilk,
That he samples from Botswana to Perth!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2013
On the twelfth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Twelve extra pounds
Eleven lots of will power
Ten ways to cook tofu
Nine work out cd’s
Eight health warnings
Seven ryvita biscuits
Six types of muesli
My five a day
Four calorie counters
Three sets of scales
Two low fat yoghurts
And one new diet for me
Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2012
It’s Christmas Eve and through the house
There creeps a curious little mouse.
He climbs into the big arm chair
And finds the cookies waiting there.
He only takes the smallest bite.
Santa will find his treat tonight.
He gazes with wonder at the tree
And the bright wrapped gifts left there to be
A mystery tale to tell his spouse,
When he gets home, this curious mouse.
What an adventure it has been,
He has drunk of some spilled over gin,
That had been left upon the table.
His wife will think it is a fable
He has concocted to amuse her.
She is home-bound, we must excuse her.
He once came home all out of breath
To say he had been scared to death
By a huge rat with fluffy tail.
She noticed he was very pale.
“While I was nibbling off some cheese
To bring to you, my love, to please.
He almost had me in his paws.
I’m sure he wasn’t Santa Claus”.
But this night is so very quiet.
He spies some fruitcake, has to try it.
It reminds him of that sip of gin
And wonders if his head will spin.
He hears a noise, runs for his life,
Carrying fruitcake for his wife.
Christmas morning, spread before their eyes
For the baby mice, a grand surprise.
Their mama had fixed a Christmas meal
From food their dad managed to steal.
A bit of butter, a glob of jam
And a fairly good-sized piece of ham.
Bread crumbs saved from other forays.
They had enough to eat for days.
Those little mice would never waste it.
If they didn’t like it they’d still taste it.
This food their mamma set before them,
Their dad risked his life to get it for them.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011
There once was a flawed broad named Maude
who wished to spend Christmas abroad
she ate Christmas dinner
with penniless sinners
for that was all Maude could afford.
Well ole Maude brought them black tea from China
and chocolate cakes from a diner
they ate guinea pig
and many a fig
while Maude poured them wine from Carolina.
Yes you've guessed it, I see that you knew
in Peru they eat Guinea Pigs in stew
they wear colorful hats
and watch out for black bats
Maude's dinner will be in Cusco, Peru
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
Chipmunks roasting on an open fire,
It takes 10 to make a meal.
Grab one by the tail,
Drop him into the pan...
You can hear the little fella squeal.
A little teriyaki kills that gamey taste.
On a bed of brown rice, they're so good.
Cranberries on the side,
Open your mouth wide,
You'll want to eat more chipmunks...and you should.
Chipmunks are endangered,
but who really cares?
When they're gone, they're gone, I guess.
Even tho' there's not much meat,
They're so tasty and easy to eat
And they really don't make much of a mess.
So, just before Christmas, go trap a few,
Enough for you and all your friends.
Think how good your friends will feel
Eating such a good meal;
They'll be sad when Christmas dinner ends.
Merry Christmas, Alvin.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
She stays awake for hours, cutting Xs in the sprouts,
Then peels all the tatties, a ton or thereabouts,
Slicing and dicing parsnips is next up in the plan,
Chops up carrots and a swede, and put them in a pan,
Mixes up her sage and onion and stuffs it in the bird,
Along with some pork sausage meat that’s been pre-prepared,
She takes apart the oven, to fit the turkey in,
Hangs it up with bits of string, there’s no room in the tin,
Wraps sausages in bacon, in case they catch a chill,
But makes sure they‘re all cooked thoroughly, so the family won’t get ill,
Cooks the bird for hours, while the table’s being laid,
With all the finest crockery (and some of lower grade),
Makes space around the table, brings in extra chairs,
Adorns the place with candles and other Christmas wares,
Lays out a Christmas cracker in everybody’s place,
Complete with rather tacky joke, no doubt of a straight face,
And brings out all the condiments, the pickles and the sauce,
The salt and pepper, the mustard and radish known as “horse”,
Next she makes the starter, the simplest course by far,
A cocktail made up of prawns and a sauce out of a jar.
The family then all piles in, and argues over seats,
The children are already full of chocolates and treats,
Grandmother is mumbling, “Kids should be seen not heard”,
Meanwhile back in the kitchen Mum’s wrestling with the bird,
She tries to carve up slices, but ends up with turkey chunks,
While Dad and Gramps have become a pair of Christmas drunks,
They start an argument about which wine goes with the meat,
And restless children run around, not staying in their seat,
Mother tries to keep her calm and bravely soldiers on,
But the roasties are all blackened and the sprouts are over done,
Mum enters the dining room looking very puffed,
She throws the turkey down and shouts ,“There you go! Get stuffed!”
18th November 2012
Copyright © Sharon Smith | Year Posted 2012
Um ginger bread cookies
Spicy, sassy, a little zip
A cup of coco and a dip
Copyright © Laura Mckenzie | Year Posted 2007
12 eggs a cracking
11 prawns a peeling
10 potatoes baking
9 cookies crumbling
8 cheery cherries
7 sweeten oranges
6 cheesy caulies
5 gooooooooolden loaves
4 turkeys roasting
3 puds a steaming
2 happy hams
brings 1 Christmas feast for my family....
For P.ds 12 days of xmass contest
Please note we dont really have 4 turkeys lol :D
Copyright © Tracie Edwards | Year Posted 2012
CHRISTMAS TOYS AND JOYS
The toys in the shops today are different from the past,
with electronics replacing bat and ball.
Even parents get in the mix, and children need be fast,
if they want to play with their new toys at all.
Back-yard cricket is forgotten when the Wii comes on the scene.
Virtual sports replace the games we know.
Invisible balls are slashed at when hit towards the screen
and a cartoon rival hits it back to you.
These rivals in the TV Box will play with you alone,
or you can play with a friend by your side.
Sometimes a couch potato gets up to play and groan,
but keen to join the game with a swing that’s wide.
The DS, Xbox and the PSP keep everyone amused
with puzzles for the brains of young and old.
There’s Pokemon and Mario forever been renewed,
played with concentration; fingers quick and bold.
But the games are put aside when we are called to table;
no fast food today it’s Christmas fare for all.
There’s turkey, pudding, pies and cakes to eat if we are able,
then we often fall asleep on the lounge, or in the hall.
But lives, when shared with others are better for the sharing,
with memories created and sent across the miles.
These keep us going when we feel alone, with no one caring,
then we see their photos; remember friendships and we smile.
Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012
Is it Christmas everywhere?
Christmas parties and stuffed teddy bears.
Songs of merry Christmas delight.
Snow covered rooftops glowing at night.
Gifts of sparkling diamond rings.
Christmas memories and special things.
Holiday feasts and decorated doors.
Chocolate covered cherries, Oh! Give me more.
Trips to the mall to buy gifts galore.
Paying with plastic I depleted my stash.
Let us make a loan I need more cash.
Is it Christmas everywhere?
Are you sure without a doubt?
Because some poor child this Christmas will be without.
Give hope and love.
Give prayers and faith.
For those lonesome people on this Christmas day.
Is it Christmas eerywhere?
With war overseas?
People dying and starving,
and no shoes to cover their feet.
Is it Christmas everywhere, with so much poverty?
Families who go hungry, with nothing much to eat.
What about the homeless and natural disaster stricken lands?
It would make this Christmas merry for the wealthy to lend a hand.
With death and crying, and cold and mourning,
an unfortunate road to a path with no glory.
Oh! What a very sad Christmas story.
My home is my castle that shelters me,
but don't forget the homeless that beg on the street.
So, make this Christmas merry if you're able to give.
Share your heart with someone and allow them to live.
The best Christmas will be without a doubt,
God will bless you for giving to those who are without.
Copyright © shannon farlouis | Year Posted 2010
Holiday confections of delicious joys mouthwatering flavorings,
Savor the tasty classic Christmas cookies, snicker your drooling
Taste buds of satisfactions indulgence by sugary tarts of rounded
Pleasure, iced with frosting's dappling s of sprinklings coloring!
Gingersnaps men drown in the ice cold milk ponds of thoughts
Consumption, as candy canes remain untouched on the sacred
Tree of traditions, sighing to themselves thank goodness I'm not
A Christmas cookie!
Homemade oven specials fill the air with holiday splendor,
Served hot and ready for those tiny eager little hands spread
Wide, this poem is making me hungry myself excuse me if,
I go smash a few wondrous delights just to satisfy myself
Before writing any more of these golden crumbling lines!
Don't cut any cookie corners my dearest friends, the devil
Foods is in the detail after all right, stars to the snowmen,
The shapes to designs are endless, but the out come is
What childhood dreams are made of visionary sugar plums,
Nope more like cookies dancing in frosty glass of white milky
Mugs of liquefaction!
Cinnamon to the bittersweet chocolate poundage, I'll gain
Twenty inches before I'm through writing this, better pay
My gym dues ahead of time, and make my new years resolutions
Promise after the holidays to avoid the local bakery!
Candy's M&M encrusted bittersweet, I'm losing my grip around
My waist line but who cares, these are cookies we're talking about!
Pie or cake slice, I'd rather raid the holiday cookie jar if you please,
I'm hooked on those chocolate chip, peanut butter festive celebration
Scene, if you don't mind!
I'll jog an extra mile in the snowy cold to the local treat market,
Just to gain that sacred tins awesomeness, top that topper topper
If you can't resist for I've that holiday fever myself, I'll bring the
Milk if you bring extra cookies to share with me?
Hey just a note for that Jolly Fellow way up north, I've been
Really good this year, but I'll be on your naughty list soon enough
I fear, for I'm not putting out your favorite Christmastime treat,
Send the Krampus for me, for instead I'll be putting out health
Bars it's all I got left, sorry Mr. Santa Clause!
Wait I just found a candy kiss at the bottom of my purse,
Hopefully that will do, it's not a cookie but it's special
None the less, love always the Mrs. Cookie monster!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
This plate of holiday baking you did bring by
was really kind
I unzipped the zip lock
to get inside
cookies and brownies
and bread of banana
but what was a surprise especially so
was to discover you know
of corner cut smaller pieces
and cookies of extra crunch
and the ends of the breads
sometimes quite dry
are okay too
happy holidays as well to you!
Copyright © Lesley Micuda | Year Posted 2014
Twas a few days before Christmas, shoppers
dazed and bewildered, wandered through the store
selecting groceries from off the shelves,
paying for purchases, minds are elsewhere.
In quick succession, three people stepped out
there in front of my cart - could not stop quick
so each was hit gently, not one was hurt
just dumbfounded why I ran into them!
Copyright © Carol Fillmore | Year Posted 2010
Cookies must not go to waste
Specially those of great taste
So right passed my lips
And straight to my hips
I WILL let them go to WAIST
I so love to munch and munch
They’re brittle now with a crunch
The flavors- still great
But don’t satiate
They’re great with my office lunch
My body keeps them in store
Why can’t I get through the door?
Should have thrown them out
Now I am more “stout”
Ok, perhaps just one more?
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
Gosh! What an elegant treat?
Knocked me off my feet
Eggnog on my lips so sweet
Tasty and luscious
Smooth – O’ so precious
© Joseph, 12/2/07
© All Rights Reserved
Place among 273 Semi-Finalist
Total of 1034 Entries
Poetry Soup International Poetry Contest
March 6, 2008
Cristmas Time Is Here - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Heck
December 24, 2007
Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2007
Iced Christmas pudding
Succulent rich soil covered in sweet snow
Food 2: Holiday Connections - Poetry Contest by Andrea Dietrich
17 November 2015
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015
playing board games
christmas sugar cookie fun
lemon square custom
Copyright © Marty King | Year Posted 2015
Juicy round orange.
Squeeze roll and cut a round hole.
Use peppermint stick as straw.
Juicy round lemon.
Squeeze roll and cut a round hole.
Use peppermint stick as straw.
Juicy round apple.
Cut and slice in eight pieces.
Spread peanut butter on thick!
Juicy round donut.
Cut half in two like sandwich.
Put pineapple slice.
Using donut halves.
Make a pineapple sandwich,
Very juicy Christmas treats.
Copyright © Marty Owens | Year Posted 2009
Got a round stomach, yet Yuletide decors still roll in the mouth.
All Rights Reserved
Nov. 19, 2015. 11.15pm
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2015
A Christmas Memory
(Shaira Form - Dabali version)
Many moons ago, a migrant, to a land unknown, all was new,
When Christmas arrived, tradition, hurried out the door, on review,
No snowfalls around, no eggnog, just an ice-cold beer, will make do,
Thirty-five degrees, at the beach, fresh caught shrimps on the BBQ
Note: Christmas in Australia is in Summer. Traditional XMAS lunch may still be enjoyed under the air condition today. At my place we have a XMAS Eve dinner instead.
Contest: A Christmas Memory
Sponsor: Broken Wing
This is a rather unusual form, originating from Georgia in the 12th Century. The English language version is a mono rhymed quatrain of sixteen (16) syllables broken up into four sections.
There are two versions, the Dabali Shairi or low version, and the Magala Shairi or high version. The low version is not really suited to the Iamb poet as it consists of five syllables, followed by three syllables, a caesura and then a triple rhyme.;
The Magali Shairi is much better suited to the Iambic user as sections are broken up into fours (or two iambs), there is still a caesura after the second section, but the requirement is only for a double rhyme
Copyright © Ronald Zammit | Year Posted 2015
Oft' I have mused about what I would do should I win a ton of clams.
(Of course I'd take my wife's sage advice and avoid the usual scams!)
After taking care of my family, I'd take pleasure in giving the rest away,
To those of lesser means, bringing miracles to their lives on Christmas day!
I'd seek out the homeless vets to provide them with food, clothes and shoes,
And send those well-deserving heroes on a vacation to anywhere they choose.
I'd send World War Two heroes to visit their Memorial in DC before they die,
To reminisce with their buddies, recalling the good, the bad and just to cry.
I would see that Santa Claus provided a coat and shoes to all the little ones,
And dollies for the little girls and for little boys, toy pickup trucks and guns.
And for their Moms and Dads who due to economic times are facing stress,
Arrange heat and food for their home and for Mom a Macy's coat and dress!
I'd throw the biggest party yet for families of heroes who defend our nation,
And provide a college scholarship for each of their kids to further their education.
I'd seek out old folks homes and those in hospice to give them a hug and hope,
And make life as comfortable for them as possible to be better able to cope.
I would ensure that the soup kitchens had more than ample food to feed,
All of God's precious lambs on Christmas Day who are hurting and in need.
I would donate a sizeable check to my church and go there to kneel and pray,
To thank Him for the means to provide such miracles on this Christmas day!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Tied for 2d place in Carolyn Devonshire's "Your Christmas Miracle" Contest - Dec 2011
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011
A creamy rum concoction, flammable as the yuletide log!
Written Nov.15th, 2015 for "Food 2: Holiday Connections - Poetry Contest".
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015