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Sonnet Food Poems | Sonnet Poems About Food

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Angels of Destiny

Angels of destiny, sunk in empty eyes so clear,
Angels of destiny, every day your fate so near.
Seldom has your little face been graced with a smile
Nothing strikes you funny as you search the garbage pile.

These angels are babies, little babes without a bed.
Every day their hands held out for just one piece of bread.
Dreams of hoping something, anything would be more fare
Praying maybe someone, anyone might care.

Poor poor angels I would love to give much more,
But I'm too busy keeping up with the guy next door.
I wish he hadn’t bought that new boat down at the bay,
Now I'll have to save to buy a bigger one some day

Angels of destiny sentenced to a life of fears,
Angels of destiny, I will just leave you my tears.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
09.09.2014
Contest The Poet II
Gautami Phookan
Theme: Leave you my tears
6th


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Pink and Grey Galahs

I see a pair of Pink and Greys
They fly on by my way
They seem to be so filled with health
To me they do have so much wealth

They're so majestic in the sky
As I see them flying by
And when they land upon a branch
It really puts me in a trance

Trays of seed I have for them
On which upon they land
Such a lovely sight to see
I could almost feed them from my hand

I love to see them feeding there
As the seed these two birds share


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Sonnet 18 Parody

Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art much more shrivelled and much more cold
Rough winds shake the withered leaves of today.
And your stomach hath too many a fold.

Sometimes too hot your sister shines,
And often is your grey complexion dimmed;
And you always smell like my uncle’s swine 
Except your upper lip is less well trimmed.

Thy eternal summer did long since fade
And lost possession of that fair thou ow'st;
And Satan brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives death to eyes.


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My Father and the Staff of Life

`                                                                

How strangely life will turn around, reverse, then come again
I remember how he would tiptoe in, from a warm and downy bed
He’d  wink at me, then beckon me, while twinkling stars peeked in
In kitchen light, a bite to eat, a midnight snack, he said

I would pour the milk, and he would smile, then carefully tear the bread
The staff of life, a simple thing, these two small bowls of wheat
My Dad and I, the broken bread, with milk on top, or cream instead
A bit of sugar or honey dripped, to make it slightly sweet

Such a little thing, so comforting, and helped us both to sleep
And in my care, his dwindling  years…especially at the end
He was fading then, no appetite, few foods that he could eat
Soft bread I’d make, with milk poured in, would help us think of then

I’d sit upon his bed and talk, and help him spoon some in
The things in life turn inside out,  somehow come back again


-------------------------------------------------------------
For the Contest: Sponsored By Regina Riddle "Intimate Relationships"


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ON THE FRINGE

Your eyes drink the hues of the Shisha Lounge:
art on walls and art brewing over charcoal.
This coffee ceremony is on the fringe,
far from the pallid and staid. I’ve marveled

at these dear blends, how culture can transcend 
barriers and ignorance. We order too much.
Tibsy, zignie, timtimo.. injera bends 
to each spiced delicacy as our plates touch. 

Gone is this haven where pleasure was shared.
Still, I’ll bring you there. Scribe, man of integrity,
sit with me. Exhale poetry. Imbibe tribal air. 
Mine, this moment and mine, this memory

but that mystifying brew, that receptive floor,
the smoke refined by deep respect… each are yours.  








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The sweet

Candy its yummy
It tastes so good
When it enters my tummy
I will love to give some to robin hood

You can get cavities 
But its worth eating
Cavities hurt so much you cant do activities
Then you start mistreating

Candy just melts slowly in mouth
Everytime you think about why it melts you get the chills
Then you think about heading to south
To go to Beverly hills

I've said this before
And now i'm going to explore


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Potluck Dinner, 3

(Byrdcage Echo Sonnet)

I send you this request to be my guest
come waltz around the diner's hall with me
at potluck dinner planned by friends tonight,
where scents of ginger pie can spice your lust.
I promise you your palate’s true delight
when you behold my sister's flaky crust
Come sample seafood stuffed in chicken breast
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie,

an offer sure with not a hint of jest.
A dinner fraught with traps we can't foresee,
the hall will echo words of sated praise;
the pie you crave turns bitter as you chew
from lips of those whose eyes begin to glaze.
Its texture coats your tongue until you spew,
then sample seafood stuffed in chicken breast,
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.

It’s packed with shiver-driven nutmeg zest.
The hostess, quick with cups of ginger tea
but pumpkin pie is not its taste intent.
I pound your back and push you out the door
for those in line who rush to catch the scent;
while I pretend you're one we must ignore.
I sample seafood stuffed in chicken breast
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.

I send you this request to be my guest.
Come waltz around the diner's hall with me;
come sample seafood stuffed in chicken breast,
and slather pie with ample hunks 


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The Tranquil Picnic at Dusk

I’d love to be with you in a canoe
accompanied by summer’s softest breeze,
enjoying the verdant valley view
while drifting on a river lined with trees.

Ahead would be a peak that whisks the sky.
We’d look above us from our little boat
to where the eagle and the osprey fly
as in the quiet glow of dusk we’d float.

We’d dock on sand and find a cozy spot
to roast some hot dogs in our campfire’s heat
and spread the luscious picnic foods we’d brought;
then relishing tranquility, we'd eat!

Amid dark, silent pines, by fire's bright light,
we'd snuggle happily into the night.

For Carol Brown's "Picnic Time" Contest


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Tasted So Good

I ate some fried catfish and it tasted so good!
Just how good did that fried catfish taste?
It tasted so good it made a hound dog slap a bull dog.
That had to have been some mighty fine vittles.

I ate some fried chicken and it tasted so good!
Just how good did that fried chicken taste?
It tasted so good it made a wolf howl and a grizzly bear dance.
That had to have been some mighty fine vittles.

I ate some fried crawfish and it tasted so good!
Just how good did that fried crawfish taste?
It tasted so good it made an alligator turn a somersault.
That had to have been some mighty fine vittles.

I ate some fried rat and it tasted so bad!
I had to throw it all up in a brown paper bag.


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Feeding the Birds

My morning retirement ritual,
Provides breakfast to the birds on my street. 
Food for fowl, silencing bellies that growl,
Watching the many hundreds gather near,
Huddled together on branches they meet,
With a calm patience we’ve learned to revere.

Feeding the birds of every pedigree,
Flying things, all sizes, colors, and shapes.
Hungry beaks, vibrant feathers, sharp clawed feet,
Small Finches and Wrens, large Sparrows come round.
Harmoniously singing us awake,
Their only care: yummy seeds on the ground.

My morning retirement ritual,
Feeding the birds of every pedigree.


1)  Sonnet written in Anapestic Pentameter


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Reese's Pieces

Reese’s Pieces was ET’s only choice
And it’s loved by many children as well
And it was that candy that gave him voice
For Reese’s Pieces I’ll ring that cow bell

Reese’s peanut butter has its own taste
And Reese’s Pieces are easy to hold
And Hershey’s candies are never a waste
Instead of M & Ms Pieces are bold

Reese’s made the cups first pieces later
If its Reese’s it is peanut butter
We love it even the candy hater
Reese’s Pieces takes you from the gutter

If your life happens to be in pieces
Glue it together with Reese’s Pieces



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HUNGER

It strikes one at will,
As one whose intent 
is to kill,
Causing rumbles and 
tumbles in the 
stomack,
Making you rummage 
for solution down in 
the sack!

The causer of all 
kinds of ulcer
That entity 
accompanied with 
bitter pains
Which if untended 
lead it can to cancer
And from which there 
is loss and no gains!

The solution to be 
sought when it 
strikes is food
Whether large or 
small in quantity
So far as this giant 
can be tamed for 
good
By it, be it of high or 
low quality!

Hunger it is that is 
one life's equalities
To both with 
reputable and 
questionable 
qualities!!!


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Cat

It is the laziest of all creatures, 
It could eat and eat filet all the day long. 
Investigative eyes is a feature, 
And it will sing to you its forlorn song. 

It will avoid you like the plague by day, 
Skulking, running, bounding, from room to room. 
By night it searches through the halls for its prey, 
The hunted will meet its impending doom. 

The whisper of whiskers against the door, 
Tip-toe, pitter-patter, sneakily creeps. 
All at once bounding across the floor, 
Whoosh goes the paw across the mouse hole deep.  

“Drat!” says the cat, missed the mark once again, 
Once more the mouse hunt will have to begin.


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Sweet pleasure

I slowly cut a corner off my prize
No cause to hurry, see I at this time
To savor, such a treat sees no despise
If one knows not this joy, that is a crime

The layers compliment this god-like cream
The smooth caress of chocolate is joy
The combination is much like a dream
My senses it so fully does employ

I do not need a house or any clothes
My mind is full of thoughts only to know
When next taste I the sweetness of my rose
But I would wait a hundred years of snow

If love is like this sweet patisserie,
I think my life consists of it and me.


Details | Sonnet | |

Which Fruits in My Basket

When asked what in my basket I would take
of any kind of fruit; well, here’s the truth.
I much prefer my fruit in pie or cake,
or chocolate covered for my sweety tooth.

No apples, peaches, pears or plums for me.
I find bananas boring. Am I sick?
Of all the fruits that grow upon a tree,
there hardly is a one I'd want to pick.

A mango slithers like an eel; I gag!
And though papaya can be rather sweet,
exotic fruits of which the natives brag
are just “ok.” I’ll stay with my red meat.

Just melon, grapes or cherries in my basket
and can you make them seedless if I ask it?

By Andrea Dietrich For PD's November Poetry Contest


Details | Sonnet | |

SPICY



The sentiment in the cinnamon stills

her hand. She's recalling eyes so like spice, 
   
softly piquant. Mmm, how they'd widened 'til

starbursts were all she could see. Once. Twice.

They had been rapacious. But what is love,

she thinks, but a delicious consummation

that never truly satisfies. Ground clove,

a dash of cardamom and sweet persuasion 

is stirred and stirred. It's an old recipe,

one as familiar as the noise he makes

when he devours something savory

or honeyed, sighs from him breaking.

When the cake cools, she'll steal a tiny bite

to wet so much more than her appetite. 

 





*Inspired by Debbie Guzzi?s haiku 15
**This is a contemporary sonnet


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A rose is always the first one to die

A rose is always the first one to die
As love arrives, flip-flapping his wings,
Taking her to a fresh grave to lie,
Hidden amid hallowed tree’s rings.
 
Earth unrests with a slight touch,
Feathers and petals, red and white,
Mingle when Love leans to vouch,
Whirling around the burial site:
 
“Wave slowly, I see, I like, I take,
Your lips are cherries, your heart
Like the soft and most sweet cake,
 
I will feast and if my lips demand,
I will take my bow and with my art,
Take food from your soft hand.“


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Crackers for Carrots

If carrots peeled for dipping, cut in strips
could keep their beta-carotene, yet taste
like crackers Ritz when placed upon my lips,
What bliss!  But they do not. Ah! - such a waste!

And if that low-fat yogurt which they're dipped in
Were luscious onion-flavored sour cream;
and if instead of water I sipped sin-
a frothy shake the flavor of my dream;
Oh, what nectar on my tongue that I would feel
if everything nutritious tasted sweet,
and dull or nasty foods could just taste real
like melted cheese, potatoes fried or meat.

If only what I hated tasted good,
I'd diet not, but eat all that I could!

Just a silly oldie from my dieting days!!!


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The Masticator

Some folks like food that’s smooth to touch their lips; which does not come in chunks or crunchy sticks. They take their tea in leisurely small sips or eat ice cream with lots of tiny licks. I rarely ask for smoothies or for yogurt, for puddings or for bland and jiggling jello. I much prefer the entrees to dessert and something hearty over something mellow. To salty, crunchy foods I gravitate: popcorn and potato chips and nachos, and on my plate some food to masticate: pasta, pizza, burgers, fries or tacos. A large hot soup can soothe my appetite if served with lots of crackers I can BITE! For the Teenager Entertainment Poetry Contest


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Happy Meal Plague

A “Big Mac attack” and “Have it your way”
are all past slogans from fast food places
for most Americans fast food will stay
because Big Macs and Whoppers feed faces

Americans love to eat on the go
we love pizza hamburgers and hot dogs
and the value meals never cost much dough
other countries may think we’re all just hogs

truth be told we need to eat to survive
Burger King and MacDonald’s does the job
some may think fast food as food at a dive
Long John Silver does have corn on the cob

right or wrong fast food will never leave us
until the day all Americans bust



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chicken's chicken soup

chicken soup for the chicken
when the egg starts to thicken
when the yoke's rollin' right
when the white's clear 'n' bright

when the roosters sittin' roostin'
when the hen's right for a'goosin'
when the coop's are all a'coupin'
when said rooster ain't a'droopin'

when the desire's too demandin'
an' all else is notwithstandin'
an' chicken's tongue's unbeaked to cluck
an' sip the soup of what the - heck

that's what makes the chicken flutter
an' Grand Ma don't cook it no better

...that's why the hen crossed the road

© Goode Guy 2014-02-19


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In my kitchen

In my kitchen I do see
So many things that do please me
I love eating, cooking, cleaning
My kitchen it has so much meaning

In the kitchen so much joy I find
Beauty treatment comes to mind
And juice of lemon, oatmeal too
Diminishes all that rust for you

Then we have those cleaning things
Vinegar, Bi-Carb, much ease they bring
They do help me such a lot
When it comes to cleaning pots

Then we come to eating, Yum!
It's such a treat to my old Tum
Though sometimes cooking drives me mad
Sometimes it peeves me just a tad

Now I am off to do some shopping
And then return to do some mopping


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Therefore beholding plays the farmer pale

Dried sand eclipsed over the Season’s fall, 
sullen rhyme sings singer-birds over scale,
the storm-dance sprays dust against broken wall,
To the hat-worn folks, sorrowed, narrates tale;
Done seasonal harvest with plaint-dried tears,
With diseased cattle shrunken skin to ribs,   
With cracked ground, hungry sad visage of fears,
With wasted limbs and pot-bellied in cribs.
keenly begs graceful charity for age,
Promising bags, from next seasons harvest,
To plough the ground below the lowered wage,
And to lock starving kids to empty breast.
Thus rewording he sows the seeds and play, 
Hoping golden grain’s harvest from his clay.
©Anees Rahman


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Culinary Sonnet

Figs stuffed with prosciutto and mascarpone cheese,
A plate of bacon wrapped scallops and pineapple,
French onion soup is bound to please
Or garlic steamed mussels with which to grapple.
Artichoke hearts smothered in sherried cream,
Organic pears with sugar and cinnamon, butter sautéed,
Pork tenderloin medallions make a Demi-glaced dream
While crisped Lyonnaise potatoes are made.
Now, with a sip of Pouilly-Fuisse’,
Tastes flush the palate like a gourmet in concert.
A toast to good friends on this wonderful day,
As ice wine chills... to sip with dessert.
A plate of old fashioned bananas foster,
Perhaps in the morning, Eggs Benedict with lobster!?




Oct. 2, 2012 for Cyndi's Modern Sonnet Contest


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Cornish Sonnet

The huntsman took aim bringing it into line,
he pulled back the bow, a shot to the chest;
Not instantly dying he ran into a mine,
there on the hillside I saw him escape;
Majestic he stood in full view at his best
but for this beast today there'll be life's forsake. 

Into the cavity where gold could be found,
time was now called on this magnificent beast;
Surrounded by beauty in woods all around,
he was hauled to the castle where royals would dine
upon the cooked carcass for nobels to feast, 
the toothless hunter enjoyed this over swine.

The huntsman took aim bringing it into line,
Into the cavity where gold could be found.


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Pie Eyed

The trees have pumpkin-pied themselves
they're dipped in orange butterscotch.
The squirrel's nests of pick-up sticks
hide acorns stores which plink-plop.

Below the apple trees bowed branches
mother harvests windfalls for pies.
Father takes a old buck down
for mincemeat pie, bye and bye. 

The corn field's full of children small
gathering ears for Dutch Corn pie.
A cider smell of cinnamon
reminds of crispy crusts on standby.

Mother's at her best this season
and all those pies-- why its the reason!




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A life from Anger

Anger is something I grew up fearing
Mom and any other person in charge
today my eyes are no longer tearing
even though my stomach got somewhat large

eating the right food is so hard to do
since it seems so much stuff is bad for us
and these limbs of mine sometimes will not do
I get by walking and riding the bus

and my wife is right with me to the end
we both had our own bouts with some issues
but at the end she is my only friend
and we both have used many tissues

from a house of anger I started out
in my lifetime I hope world peace will sprout


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Lazily Lay Two Yellow Jackets

The two yellow jackets lazily lay
Upon the chilled turnip leaf 
This November autumnial day
Waiting to be warmed in the noon day sun

Maybe they're in love hoping above hope
To be spared many eggs somewhere to lay
New life to come next spring_ summer in scope
Sometimes yellow jackets mix in raked hay

Where their nest was disturbed on a fall eve
By tractors with blades that cut luscious grass
Then are caught in spinning baler in weave
That makes them so mad they come out fighting

Two yellow jackets lazily lay waiting
Glad there is a chance for them this day_mating


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Check Please

It's the end of the meal,
You just enjoyed lunch.
You try to get a feel,
Or a hint, or a hunch

Of who's taking the check
When the waiter brings it out.
Your budget's a wreck
And your credit's in doubt.

Maybe it will be Ray,
Eating out was his suggestion...
Just then you're covered with a tray
Of food that avoided digestion.

The waiter says, "I'm sorry, your party eats for free."
You say, "Good news guys, looks like lunch is on me!"


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Original is Best

Tabasco is the sauce I’d rather use
have a Tabasco burger with mayo
or with Buffalo wings with any booze
that’s a big plus when you’re at a disco

it adds a zest to any food all day
Tabasco to me much more than hot sauce
it gives real flavor eating isn’t play
those other hot sauces give them a toss

I loved it ever since I was a boy
my dad called it hot sauce it’s Tabasco
those other sauces are just a decoy
for there will always be one Tabasco

Tabasco now has many new flavors
originals always my life savers




Details | Sonnet | |

Have A Sardine

Have a Sardine? :

Oh how I love to eat sardines?
Just the thought makes my face turn puce!
Gas in my tummy, they induce.
They don't go that well with baked beans.

Sandwiches made with these morsels.
Can only eat two at a time;
taken with a bit of fresh lime.
Some people eat them with mussels.

The thought of these will make some puke!
Keep it away, he will rebuke!
The smell enough to make him sneeze,
the sight of which will make him wheeze!

Put one in the microwave and nuke.
He said: "Oh my God, this is Yuke."


Steven Beesley (c) 2005-10-03



Sardine:
A sonnet that uses the redondilla form as a base. Each line has 8 syllables and the rhyme scheme may be abba cddc eeff ee or abba abba ccdd cc. It is also known as the Redondilla sonnet, the Napoleonic sonnet, or the Sonondilla. 


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Pass the Ketchup, Please

A tradition in our house on New Year’s Day each year
Black eyed peas on your dinner plate will appear
A dish guaranteed to bring you good luck
If you want it all year you better eat them all up

I am not a fan of those black eyed peas
So smother them in onions and ketchup, if you would please
Doctored up this way I will consume the whole bowl
For the good luck that they bring has made me a fortunate soul

So, once a year I will eat those nasty legumes
And if I really am lucky …
    … next New Year’s Day will not get here too soon




For the "Traditions" contest


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Thursday Sonnet

We should eat turkey once a week
And not just once a year.
I'd eat ev'ry part (but not the beak)
And wash it down with beer.

Thursday's the day that I propose
We eat this weekly feast.
Because as far as events go,
Poor Thursday has the least.

Lethargic Fridays would be implied,
(You'd need a day to recover.)
Thanksgiving would fall right in stride
So whaddaya say, turkey lover?

How do we make it official? I don't know what the laws be.
Thursday needed a lift ever since the last episode of Cosby.


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A Sign of Good Taste

His jewel of chocolate delights
In dreams of love dare we behold,
That brings to continental nights
Such luxury enriched with gold.
In deuces rather than an ace
The Monte Carlo cards may fold
His gem will bring a smiling face
Such luxury enriched with gold
Of biking’s tragic final trip
The tears of loss the papers told
His love remains at fingertip
Such luxury enriched with gold
His jewel of chocolate delights
Such luxury enriched with gold.


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Coffee House

O Sheer Marvel is my Cappuccino
With Him, only joys and laughs do I know
Like an intrepid lover, He calms
All my anxieties and stress, Oh He charms!

A drink in the morning,
One in the hour of lunching
Another after the act of dining
My Cappuccino is addicting!

Proud like a handsome Italian;
In my cup, He becomes Bohemian
One sip and to chill and relax only is my state
Even if for work or prayers I get late!

Delightful Drink, Caring for my stand
Thankful I am to have in my life your hand!


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Samu

(Kyrielle Sonnet)*

I coax him with my baby talk,
then he begins his fishy walk.

He wiggles and waggles his tail,
he flutters his fins without fail.

His coat of blue, purple and green
flashes and shimmers a vivid sheen.

You can tell he's a normal male,
he flutters his fins without fail.

He waits until I walk away
to forage for his food today.

While spewing bubbles in his trail,
he flutters his fins without fail.

I coax him with my baby talk,
he flutters his fins without fail.

*Samu, a pet Japanese Beta fish, lived three (3) years,
 which, according to the pet store owner, was a record.
My theory: With all living creatures, love works wonders.
And love, as always, is expressed in many ways. Unable 
to hold him, physically pet him, I communicated my love
to him in words, to which he responded physically.








  


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beef stew

                          I sit here eating vegectable soup
                             and im really pissed off
                       Cause I much rather have beef stew


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Garden party


Just two of us you and me,
Meeting in dark under the stars,
A Garden party especially for we,
Roses and Lillies, gifts no bars,

Table for two laid on one side,
Silky top, vases and colourful frills decorate,
With my beloved desirous of moonlit ride,
Awed, might not subtle emotions precipitate,

Choice of our favourite foods to relish,
Luscious desserts to feast will amaze,
Seducing attire, gems and diamonds embellish,
Sitting beside, won't set the souls ablaze ?


Wish that the garden party doesn't ever last,
Lost in Togetherness, take leave of the past !



Written on 3/7/14
Contest- Garden party
Sponsor- Cyndi Macmillan


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Potluck Dinner

(Echo Sonnet)

Come waltz around the diner's hall with me
where scents of ginger pie can spice your lust
when you behold my sister's flaky crust
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.

A dinner fraught with traps we can't foresee;
the pie you crave turns bitter as you chew,
its texture coats your tongue until you spew
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.

The hostess, quick with cups of ginger tea
will pound your back and push you out the door
while I pretend you're one we must ignore
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.

Come waltz around the diner's hall with me
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.






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Shall I Compare Thee

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more stormy and less temperate.
Rough winds do shake our fragile bonds of May,
And summer's temper hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot your sweat does shine,
And often is your beauty dimmed;
And every handsome man you do decline,
by chance, they leave chest hair untrimmed.

Part 2 Variation
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art as stormy and as cold
And do leave me longing for May
And winter’s temper too long showed
Sometime too cold yours eyes shine GREY


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Culinary Connivances

“This bitter, green fruit soaked in brine
is palatable, but I wish
to make the flavor more divine
by stuffing in some oily fish.”

“That thistle up there on the hill,
though spiny-sharp and armor-tough,
might prove to be delectable,
if it were just boiled enough.”

Who first made such discoveries?
Were they intended to be jokes – 
the olives stuffed with anchovies
and boiled hearts of artichokes?

Though I think they are delicious,
their origins seem pernicious.


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The Birthday Cake

Delicious scents of cocoa tease the nose
While baking a cake for candles to crown
A tender greeting for a birthday treat
As brightly wrapped parcels gently repose
All chosen with care so my love is shown
Today it is her I shall celebrate.
My passion baked into morsels, sweet
My love declared with a scented, red rose
And breakfast in bed needs no dressing gown.
It is her love that made my life complete
From that first tender kiss on our first date
I’ve welcomed the warmth she placed in my heart;
Now love’s wants and needs can anticipate
As from her side I can never depart.


Details | Sonnet | |

Persimmon Whiffler

(A Slant-rhyme Sonnet)
As autumn treads across our piebald patch,
she drops her frost to shelter, soft as wool, 
but brilliant blossoms curl in moonlight watch
and shrink beneath the snap of hoarfrost cool.

Then every critter lodged inside the farm
begins to hide a hoard of winter chow,
use nature’s fabric fluff to cradle warm
and stash in cache beneath the muted show.

Persimmon limbs are bowed with orange loot
which deer desire if hunger leaves them poor.
The frost has signaled time as under foot
true sweetness swells at autumn’s open door.

          I rush before the deer, with knife in hand
          to read the seed as weather forecast wand.


Details | Sonnet | |

Minnesota Nice

The great upper mid west
Minnesota put to the test
Ten thousand lakes and streams
Reality for many who like to dream


From Itasca state park
To the Louisiaina's wooden bark
The mighty Mississippi flows
Gently down the outcrop she goes


Crime rates are always's on the rise
But really does it come as such a surprise
Everyone seems to like to hug
Except when its a mosquito bug


So many call us Minnesota Nice
But some still say were Cold as Ice




Details | Sonnet | |

Spread the Seed

We look for sharing within humankind. Instead, greed and hunger is what we find. An example of inequality throughout this planet is easy to see. It is time we all start spreading the seed. There are many who hunger in dire need. Those are the ones we should nourish and feed. To all who reap the harvest, say “Godspeed”. Food treasures can sprout from within the earth. Bountiful supplies increase our net worth. An overflowing cornucopia, food can be produced in a plethora. When producing more in order to give, everyone is given a chance to live.


Details | Sonnet | |

LEMON PIE

Lemon Pie in the Oven
And Children asking questions
That maybe I once asked,
Eating excess lemon filling
From The Bowl with a Spoon.
 
But where are the children?
Their Father, Uncle,
Neighbor, Cousin, 
I am each of them and none of them
And I bake whenever inspired

 In one world I’m a single man
Living alone with pets;
In the other, I’m a Worker,
A cook and sometimes Manager 
But always the family Baker

 But in both worlds I really like 
Lemon Pie, home made,
With a nice meringue on top
Also warm cherry, Apple,
Blue berry, Pumpkin, Orange 
I like them all
 
Lemon Pie out of the oven
Lemon Pie on the table
You are more delicious 
than a tree house -
Please stay awhile Lemon Pie!


Details | Sonnet | |

Appearance of the sun

Days, weeks, and months no condensation
Months, weeks, and days evaporation
The dry dusty meadows has given up faith
To the minors who covered with water play in gait
Even the plants leaves are upright
Always waiting for the night
Women during heat gossips call the children to shade
Farmers, arms at an akimbo, look at the harm the sun had made
Sacrifices had been made but their god answer not 
Workaholic peasants go to the farm and come back without a nut
They look at their past for taboos or a great sin
They find nothing the priest says the gods has nothing
The sun continues to punish there bare foot till it cuts
They sweat till sun dries it, their body then becomes forts 


Details | Sonnet | |

new sonnet

Sonnet. (Attempt)

Another day has gone and I’m old, like the day
To last long as possible, night holds no mystery.
The land needs rain, but clouds have feet of clay.
The almond tree has shed its flowers masterly 
But nature is truculent and keeps deluge at bay. 
Scorched soil, a dry desert and flying mallards  
 There was a man who walked without a hat 
He suffered sunstroke and is very much maligned.
For not obeying folks warning of wearing a cap
This has given him time to think of our modernity 
Is not the best for the promised potential of man,
 Told you, farmers are not known to be modest.
Sunstroke, our man sits in a kaleidoscope; smiles
The translucence of his mind he had seen the sky.  


Details | Sonnet | |

A seasoned song

rose,oh rosemary
sweet aroma to me,
fragrant,my thyme with thee;
lovely lemon balm
ope'd hand is my palm,
mark! love's finger print,
indelibl'd with mint;
hold sweet basil at bay,
hark! these sage words I say
my evening primrose,
see my ardour grows
aside the mistletoe.

Such is this feverfew
in my lovage for you 

May 3 2011


Details | Sonnet | |

All Consuming Passion (Adult)

Tantalizing aromas fill the nighttime air
Scents that carry on the breeze to my mind
While walking to the table to get my share
It was to my surprise, which I did find
For there on the table, my food on a dish
The dish of flesh, as the food sat on top
She reclined there supporting making a wish
That I would eat my fill and never to stop
With a smile I gestured, I’d start with the broth
I’d work my way up to the heavenly desserts
All the time cleaning my mouth with her cloth
To consume then her offerings, to get then my worth  
As she was the course which I desired the most
With wine in our hands, we then made our toast


Details | Sonnet | |

And All Because

The sweetest velvet in a tempting kiss
That coyly hides behind a crispy shell
Yet it beckons one’s heart beat to miss
For delight entices desire to swell
Can a friendship lead to better than this?
Is a single truffle enough to tell
What lies behind an odd poetic mind
Or reveal what Cadbury left behind?
Chocolate dreams that whirl across the sky
Say for the lady a sonnet be writ
In words that Galaxy cannot deny
The NaPoMo prompt was a tasty bit
And if you should be thinking how and why
Hey it is chocolate --- and I love it!


Details | Sonnet | |

over done

when timely, her karma caramelizes
again my wanting muse appears
lovely texts brown to terse chastises
to say her allotment is in arrears

recipe read, were ingredients omitted
so the pie comes out tastelessly hard
measures all measured, fruits are pitted
crust past flakey to a coffee charred

better type for your life buddy
this lovely dessert so inopportune
turns eyes to looking damply ruddy
time you start howlin' at the moon

turn down the heat, get baking soda
final notes played, song's closing coda

© Goode Guy 2011-06-15

turn oven on high, bake until dry, dispose of


Details | Sonnet | |

The Flaw of Man

Hunger sounds the tiger’s growl
Striking fear in his prey.
Hunger drives the wolf’s howl
As the night turns into day.
Hunger makes the vulnerable pay
Awakening the beast within.
Hunger deepens without delay
Forcing the honest man to sin.
When shall satisfactory begin?
Or shall the Devil’s grip tighten?
Only when the world fails to spin
Will his evil heighten.
Oh, how men value a single piece of bread,
For the Devil’s grip loosens once they are fed. 


Details | Sonnet | |

McDonald's

But soft! What light breaks through windshield yonder?
It is Mickey D’s.
Shall I stop, I ponder,
or shall not stopping be my destiny?

Those bronzed french fries,
full of transfat.
Their business will die,
if they get rid of that.

Oh! Those golden arches 
signify my next meal.
So what do I care of the starches?
I say, I’m getting a Happy Meal.

So if I’m sitting, eating with joy,
don’t mess with me, or my toy.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Food of Gods

The Milky Way is millions of pastures
Earth is one of many being tended
We’re but cattle living for our masters
Our purpose we haven’t comprehended 

Bred and manipulated our species
From the beginning our own DNA
Altered to create an alien series
For food and labor, then taken away

They created our religious belief
They’re our Gods and Demons, our nightly spooks
A type of monkey we were, with no grief
Now, when we state our fate, we’re labeled kooks

They enabled us to create our state
But we’re the food of Gods, make no mistake