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Pickled

Pat loved pickled onions, She ate them every day, She had an addiction, That kept her friends at bay. Pat ate them in the mornings, And every single night. She did not smoke cigarettes, As she might set herself alight. Pat did not swallow pills, Or narcotics of any kind She was seldom ill And she possessed a sound mind. Pat did not overeat, Or drink wine or beer at all, Pickled onions were her passion, Which led to Pat's downfall!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 9/2/2022 10:13:00 AM
Shirley you are so funny! Love this pickled poem so cleverly written….Debx
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Date: 8/31/2022 11:28:00 AM
Enjoyed! Aloha!
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Shirley Hawkins
Date: 8/31/2022 3:57:00 PM
G'day, Rico Thank you, I am pleased you enjoyed the rhyme. Thank you also for your advice; it was appreciated. Take care. Shirley
Date: 8/30/2022 9:25:00 PM
Was Pickled Pat pregnant?! lol. ~ Breath Reeking; Onions Leaking
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 9/6/2022 9:27:00 PM
Wallies?! A new one for me, for sure... ~ Wally Cleaver
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Shirley Hawkins
Date: 8/31/2022 4:26:00 PM
Breath Reeking; Onions Leaking; Ha! Ha! I don't think pregnancy would be the reason for her addiction to pickles. (although it was mine, not pickled onions but "Wallies." pickled cucumbers)

Book: Shattered Sighs