Hungry Poet
The old iron fry pan
Sealed and tempered
So many times
Melts the butter and olive oil
Until the entire bottom
Is bubbling almost smoking
The onions and shallots
Cut and diced to tiniest of cubes
Dance and caramel as the wooden spoon swirls
Flakes of garlic and ginger into the mix
Just before it smokes again cubes of chopped potato
Mixed with zucchini and yam
Bring the mix down to working temperature
Minutes later the pan is emptied into a dough
prepped pie plate
Covered with three cheeses
A cup of chopped ham
and three slices of pineapple
Some oven time later
It’s Potato Pie
(So how's your dream chloresterol, countess)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
