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Villanelle Food Poems | Villanelle Poems About Food

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

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Details | Villanelle |

Date Night (and the day after)

Opening line from "Highway Five Love Poem" by Ruth L. Schwartz


This is a love poem for all the tomatoes
I squished to make our Date-Night spaghetti.
Our love, like the pasta, was shiny.  So the story goes.

We sit at our table, between us a rose
Red as the marinara I chose.  (He let me).
This is a love poem for all our tomatoes.

We watch the steam, which the mouth quickly blows
Away (like the wind and those petals the day he met me).
Our love, like the pasta, was sticky.  So the story goes.

We sip our red wine.  Chianti, it has a good nose.
(In the morning, do you think he will regret me?)
This is a love poem.  For all our tomatoes

Are gone, just as the wine hides grapes squished by toes
in authentic California vineyards.  (You get me?)
Our love, like the pasta, was steamy.  So the story goes.

We finish our meal with gestures the other knows.
(I wonder if he'll someday forget me.)
This isn't a love poem for all our tomatoes.
Our love, like our pasta, was al dente.  So our story goes.

Copyright © Erin Moss | Year Posted 2006



Details | Villanelle |

We are not as poor as some people say

We are not as poor as some people say

Our land is our source of food and our home
We work on our land almost every day
Selling coffee beans is our main income

In remote lands, where tourists find welcome
An old aid post is sixty miles away
Our land is our source of food and our home

Since there are no roads to town from our home
We carry coffee bags most of the way
Selling coffee beans is our main income

We don’t just wait for services to come
While struggling to survive another day
Our land is our source of food and our home

Enjoy some coffee when your tour is done
That cup or two of brew gives our days pay
Selling coffee beans is our main income

We own our land and work it, unlike some
We are not as poor as some people say
Our land is our source of food and our home
Selling coffee beans is our main income.


*Life in a developing country has many challenges. One of these is getting the right kind of development!

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013

Details | Villanelle |

Thoughts on a Medaeval Castle

'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire
Comfortably warm, at their tables they dine
Under the spell of a beautiful lyre

In the great hall, under the castle spire
Enjoying immensely their vittles and wine
'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire

Chatting with ease as the torches burn higher
Bathed in the scent of the burning of pine
Under the spell of a beautiful lyre

Their laughter is ready, and wit does not tire
It only grows greater at hours after nine
'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire

Flick and the dart of the shadows inspire
Tales, ere the dawn of the even's decline
Under the spell of a beautiful lyre

Their thoughts and their words, do we dare to inquire?
Perhaps if we could there were riches to mine
'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire
Under the spell of a beautiful lyre

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

Details | Villanelle |

Vegetable Garden Does Not Make Smiles For Me

Purple conical blooms lure bumblebee
Foxglove trumpet flowers scent that please
Vegetable garden doesn't make smiles for me

Weeping Willow with grace lures so artsy
Under which lies Butterfly Bush which tease
Purple conical blooms lure bumblebee

But in the vegetable garden foresee
Sweat, toil in heat but food that heals disease
Vegetable garden doesn't make smiles for me

On trellis adjacent pale pink rose see
Just a dewdrop, but not on Butterfly Bush with base
Purple Conical blooms that lure bumblebee

In the vegetable garden no Sweet Pea
More flowers for me and food plants decrease
Vegetable garden doesn't make smiles for me

All I see toil, sweat no trip to the sea
Please do not let the flower garden cease
Let purple conical blooms lure bumblebee
Vegetable garden doesn't make smiles for me

Contest:"Villanelle Me"
Sponsor:Catie Lindsay

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Villanelle |

Corned Beef and Cabbage

Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine. This is a humble meal that tastes great. To have it, I will gladly wait in line. Boiled potatoes and carrots added are fine. As I see it cooking, I can hardly wait. Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine. Beer goes well with it, or possible light red wine. I am too hungry to have dinner at eight. To have it, I will gladly wait in line. Most Irish people consider this dish divine. Serve it right up to me on a plate. Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine. Wherever it is served, please hold up a sign. Dish it out and please don’t hesitate. To have it, I will gladly wait in line. While barley grows in the field, and grapes on the vine, Irish people serve it in every county and state. Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine. To have it, I will gladly wait in line. For Julie-Michelle's Enter the Rhyme Battle Part 4 contest

Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle |

Miriam

My sister Miriam lights the Sabbath flame
maiden is she with tumbled hair uncovered. 
She strikes the match and prays for G-d's acclaim.

Like Sara in the tent she lights the flame
pristine hands in front of two eyes hovered. 
My sister Miriam lights the Sabbath flame

At sunset each flickering flame frames
a wish for communion, peace discovered,
she strikes the match and prays for G-d's acclaim.

The table is set, the family exclaim,
the challah's cut, the shofar uncovered. 
My sister Miriam lights the Sabbath flame.

May peace and tranquility ever reign
from sunset to sunrise rediscovered, 
she strikes the match and prays for G-d's acclaim.

This great mitzvah is sister Miriam's aim
since the dawn of time this act's recovered.
My sister Miriam lights the Sabbath flame.
She strikes the match and prays for G-d's acclaim.


Dedicated to my baby sister Miriam who protects and serves.
http://www.womeninthebible.net/1.7.Miriam.htm

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Villanelle |

Villanelle: French Gourmand once sailed to the Isle of Ewe

Villanelle: French Gourmand once sailed to the Isle of Ewe
  
     Dedicated to the great French actor, Off Course!

French Gourmand once sailed to the Isle of Ewe
Must you invite high breeds to the Hebrides
To maggis shellfish wine said: I love you!

Starved Loch Ness Monster kept well out of view
For this Gourmet eats even monster breeds
French Gourmand once sailed to the Isle of Ewe

Medieval monarchs gulped innerns – rest threw
To the serfs lords ladies dogs and hybrids
To maggis shellfish wine said: I love you!

French Gourmand let Scots talk their tartans through
Venison loins he carved out for his needs
French Gourmand once sailed to the Isle of Ewe

Goths Visigoths Vikings Normans or Dieu*
Falstaff nose and paunch hide much actor’s deeds
To maggis shellfish wine said: I love you!

Eiffel Tower Louvre Versailles nothing new
Mountain Man kept apart Scylla Charibdis
French Gourmand once sailed to the Isle of Ewe
To maggis shellfish wine said: I love you!

•	Dieu: God, but French pronunciation, please!
He might take exception.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Villanelle |

Cookies

My cookies have gone missing and I don't know where they are.
I planned to give them to my friends as symbols of good cheer—
one dozen monster cookies, each one shaped into a star.

The finest of the recipes in my small repertoire,
this was to be the final batch that I baked up this year.
My cookies have gone missing and I don't know where they are.

I left them in the pantry—they were too big for the jar.
I set them on the bottom shelf next to my husband's beer,
one dozen monster cookies, each one shaped into a star

Whichever person took them, left the pantry door ajar—
It isn't like my homemade goods routinely disappear.
My cookies have gone missing and I don't know where they are.

I find the circumstances are a little bit bizarre.
I guess I need to bake some more before my friends get here—
one dozen monster cookies, each one shaped into a star.

I found crumbs in the driveway where my husband parks his car—
if it turns out that he took them, I will kick him in the rear!
My cookies have gone missing and I don't know where they are—
one dozen monster cookies, each one shaped into a star.

Copyright © J-Mag Guthrie | Year Posted 2017