Home » Poems » Indiana Shaw » Sausage, My Dear

Sausage, My Dear

SAUSAGE, MY DEAR There was once a poet who amused As forever wrote about his muse For him, it gave great ardor What was inside his larder Only that famed sausage of Toulouse Indiana Shaw . . . "The banger supreme - ooh la la" . . . ; )

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Lindsay Laurie

Date: 8/5/2020 5:41:00 PM

G'day Indiana ... our butcher makes divine sausages; chicken, chili, cheese. Addiction is not all bad - thanks Indiana - Lindsay

Indiana Shaw
Date: 8/5/2020 6:19:00 PM

Sounds like your butcher is a real connoisseur on the sausage lark, that cheese sausage sounds pretty good to me, cheers for the insight, Lindsay, hunger prangs ahead . . . : )