Best Apple Sauce Poems
I awaken from my sleep one morning
In search of poor old me
Where have I gone?
Where shall I be?
I walked over to the mirror and
I couldn't believe my eyes
There stood a selfish woman
With unspeakable pride
I went in the living room and
Jealously walked out of the kitchen
Something is terribly wrong; because
Hate was washing the dishes
I went in the bathroom
I just knew I was in the tub
I raised the shower curtain and
Stupid was making suds
I said excuse me Mr., Stupid
I am in search of me
I have been looking and looking
But where I am, I cannot see
He said did you look in the closet
You are sure to find you there
Among all the clothes, the glare,
And the heart that just don’t care
I know I am in here somewhere
But where can I be?
So much stuff in the way
My eyes find it hard to see
Somewhere in the den I saw
Crazy hanging from the wall
And envy danced a jig
Walking down the hall
Judging sat on the sofa
Making a phone call
While peace breaker laugh
And had himself a ball
My head hung in shame
No wonder I am lost
Backbiting sat in the corner
Eating cinnamon apple sauce
Oh my God! No wonder
My search is in vain
No wonder I am hid and
Can’t find a thing
I started out this morning
In search of me
Never thought I would find
So much junk to see
Now that I know what
It takes to clear the air
Seven days a week in
My life will be PRAYER!!!!
When you have a desire
for something,
You have an intense craving
that just won’t quit.
For some people
it’s called a Nicotine Fit.
Desperate people will check
the ashtrays
Before they ask…
Can I get a cigarette?
They crave and enjoy the pleasure,
that first satisfying drag.
Moving their arm in that wonderful
back & forth motion.
Those of you who crave,
already know it’s no joke,
You want that morning fix.
Most of you know
what I mean…
You’re addicted and need
that daily cup of caffeine.
We all play the game,
It’s a cup of Coffee
by another name.
Java has that smooth taste
You don’t want to waste,
to start your day,
You desire and enjoy that
first satisfying sip,
keeping you in stride,
And some bring cigarettes along
for the ride.
As Java goes down your throat.
Some grab the car keys
and others grab the TV remote.
Now, one of the sweeter things in life,
Like when a man takes a wife.
A craving that has both
Men and women
going out of their way.
For something chocolate
to make their day.
Some say it taste like sex,
And if it does,
then I’ve been eating
the wrong chocolate.
Now on their exciting
European honeymoon,
Traveling by Train.
33 countries one rail pass.
Something they both crave,
To see each other,
As they see the world.
And then there are cravings
that ladies have had,
it’s not that bad.
They delightfully suffer
when life is about to
make them a mother.
When a little one is on their way.
Being pregnant comes with a
wish for a short and painless delivery day.
But before that day,
Cravings are cravings,
Like liver and onions with cheese
and red grapes.
Like Crab legs you can’t seem
to get enough of.
Like Apple sauce with ketchup,
Cucumbers with Pepper and vinegar.
Like Argo cornstarch
Strait out of the box with a spoon.
Like Green grapes and Nectarines.
Tacos and nachos,
need I say more,
People have cravings
of all kinds…
What’s yours?
Age three, crisscross apple sauce, hands in your lap.
Age five, scooting a few inches, to let whole class in.
Age twenty-three, fresh out of college, a brand new teacher,
Criss-cross applesauce in the circle with your kindergarteners.
Age thirty-four, sitting on chair, in crisscross circle with kids.
Age forty-four, attempt at crisscross on floor, kids snickering.
Age fifty-five, on chair again, in crisscross circle with kids.
Age sixty-eight, on floor, crisscross for thirty minutes.
Legs fall asleep, can barely stand. Would kick myself if I could.
No idea this was going to happen. Standing unsteadily,
Both feet asleep. One of the third graders comes over and hugs me.
Thanks me for coming, and I cannot walk out the door yet.
Age does matter.
Well I declare...the days are growing shorter
And this day was just as warm as was July.
Heat makes me lazy and the time just slipped away.
Woe is me...but the whole day flitted by.
Well, golly gee, with pears and apples falling,
It's time to get my canning kettle out.
The wildlife will come calling if fruit is on the ground.
There are some pests that I don't want about.
The raccoon got my grapes this last October.
I'm trying to keep some of them this year.
I saved them from the birds, but the raccoons came in herds.
And all that I could harvest was a tear.
Pear butter, apple sauce and Concord grape jam,
Would look so pretty on my shelves in wintertime.
The way I like jam most is on my sourdough toast,
To nibble on when I'm thinking up a rhyme.
Oh, foolish me, the football game is starting.
I will have to put my canning jars away.
We've waited many a year for a football team to cheer.
I am sure the fruit can wait another day.
9/7/14
Criss-Cross Apple Sauce
One memory I thought I lost
Alphabets and one two threes
First grade and go mimis
Kiddie snacks and juice boxes
Cookies full of chocolate chips
Playing kitchen and building blocks
Stolen crayons in my socks
Eating glue off snowmen in class
Teacher yelling we're laughing
Time-Outs and secret codes
Pee pee kids smelly clothes
Run around pushing kids
Acting like we're stupid
That was first grade hope you enjoyed
A memory forgotten
Now let me see your ugly toy
Cocaine
Apple sauce
In my vein
Can't get across
I do it every day
Every night
I can't pay
Now I'm about to fight
I'm trying to get some from the store
I even smoked some off the floor
Chicken fingers and roast beef
Salads and a roasted leaf
Drugs and apples are the best
Because of it I always failed my drug test
Well life is good and life is great
Even if I am over weight
These humorous lines were inspired by
Viv Wigley's "Food Fight" contest.
Could not resist the temptation:)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lettuce pray before eating.
He likes rabbit, but can’t stand hair in stew.
A carrot is worth its weight in gold.
To lam a lamb? Terrible!!
Is it wise to pare a pear before eating?
Chopin onions – not musical but certainly tearful!
The bull’s life is at steak.
Cross my heart said the honest brussel sprout.
The pig was too thin...that saved his bacon.
Wearing a bird costume sent me raven mad.
Buy caviar from stir gin’s row.
The servant was maid to eat umble pie.
She could hardly talk after eating hoarse meat.
He’s wrapped up in his food.
Humbug! This is apple sauce!
Excitement in the kitchen – fat in the fire.
A flounder struggles to walk. It’s flat footed.
I enjoyed my drink – pleased as Punch.
One look at the dessert...I scream!
Take the guilt off the gingerbread.
I invited the golfer to high tee.
Take your plaice at the table; we’re eating fish today.
Open the lid and reveal some of the meat.
What a pity! The gobbling turkey had a lump in its throat.
The peacemeal destroyed our friendship.
Make no bones about filleted fish.
Next time just ask for dessert; don’t mince words.
Keep your eye on the roast, or else it will go to pot.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Placed 3rd
© 28th December 2017
The autumn winds are rattlin' the leaves of corn stalks in the fields.
The corn has been harvested and the farmers are calculatin' their yields.
Golden, yellow and crimson leaves are strewn along the country lane.
Autumn! What a glorious season! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
Mornin' frosts spread a coat of icin' atop every corpulent punkin'.
Jolly kiddies gather at parties for an old-fashioned apple-dunkin'!
Skeins of geese are wingin' south with their cousins the Whoopin' Crane.
Autumn! What a resplendent season! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
The branches of apple trees bend low bearing luscious apples galore,
Golden Delicious, Granny Smith, Rome Beauty and so many more,
Waitin' to be plucked from California's shore to the rocky coast of Maine!
Autumn! What magnificent splendor! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
Ah! To lounge by the fire and enjoy popcorn and cider when the snow flies,
And at Thanksgiving to gather with family to savor Grandma's apple pies!
Jars of apple sauce and apple butter line larder shelves, the winter to sustain!
Autumn! The most delightful season of all! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
Alas, I won't be pickin' apples from my one and only apple tree this fall!
Sneaky worms, hordes of squirrels and birds have eaten them one and all!
The way those varmints robbed me of my apple crop is a downright crime!
But despite it all, I still cherish autumn 'cause its apple pickin' time!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
(Not for the contest)
APPLE FACTS
An apple is an apple. It is an apple to the core.
It is an apple because God made it an apple.
It needs nothing more to make it shape, taste,
or feel more like an apple; so it’s great at being an apple,
because an apple is just what it is.
No matter what color an apple it is, red, green,
or yellow, it’s still an apple.
And if it could bleed, it would have apple blood;
but it has apple seeds, apple skin and apple flesh.
If we extract its juices, we’ll have apple juice.
If we puree it, we’ll get apple sauce.
If we cut it up and make pies, the pies will be…
apple pies.
An apple is a fruit, and it should never be taught
that somehow it may be a veggie; I am sure then that it would not have to prove, apologize, or fight for the right to be fruity.
If we plant its seeds, it will produce other apples,
and that is proof enough that it was meant to be an apple. Surely we can genetically modify it to become something other than a pure apple.
But it is an apple by nature, meaning, that it’s simply natural
for an apple to be the apple it was created to be.
Fact is...an apple it is, an apple it was in the beginning,
and an apple it will always be.
And however it shall perish, whether for food for the body
or to the earth again to produce more of it’s kind,
by God and nature, it was surely an apple.
We humans can learn a lot from an apple.
Echoes of the woman's tea-leaf warnings
bounce in my head...
I stare at the spilled apple sauce
all over my bed...
I watch the flickering TV in the convalescent home...
My pharmacy number is in my phone...
I dream in German but can't utter a word...
My memories blurred... My speech slurred...
Remember when we were blissful and unwed?
Why did you leave? Was it something I said?
My mind is not what it used to be...
I'm a rotting shell of stupidity...
If I were in charge of the world,
I'd cancel apple sauce,
Sunday nights,
tomatoes, and also needles.
If I were in charge of the world,
There'd be pink skies,
purple grass,and
chocolate rivers.
If I were in charge of the world,
You wouldn't have brussel sprouts.
You wouldn't have meatloaf.
You wouldn't have broccoli.
Or bad grades.
You wouldn't even have spinach.
If I were in charge of the world,
A twix would be a fruit.
All clocks would be digital.
And a person who sometimes eats pears.
And sometimes forgets to brush their hair.
Would still be allowed to be in charge of the world.
I love that one
what's in this one
its got chocolate on it
try one of these
put cornmeal in it
apple sauce in this one
what does that do anyway
makes better texture
softens, adds a nice flavor
my, these are really good
are there raisins in them?
just cranberries, dates
finished breakfast
just had to sample
chocolate and the bran muffin
another cup of coffee
you need a little butter on it,
want me to bring you some butter
sure. what a fortunate fellow
cozy home, loving wife
hot muffins for breakfast
Pause in applause Poet you Write for a life
times Mind finding the blinding bliss of the Jest
yes Just, and for the fun. This and these. Poems.
Best of balloons tunes and cartoon cars in the sun
two red blue shoes to be seen in chacO.latte covered
blueGenes... Yes, Rod is the berry cherry flavor too,
savor kids, Shes a trekin' . Knot messin' with the
Apple.sauce Know.... the show goes on. AND on.
Engage! Minnie speaks in a java porcelain peak
of the mornings jargon a song long drawn in a cup
souped up of the day and a dawn. It's called fun.
Real.a.Tea. Have a Sum squeeks the java called Jo.
Lava Godiva.Cocao.nut too? With your lime Pooh?
"I was Just, making sure of you..."
"Number One... You have the bridge." Fly Write
our bird burning Sage of a ship.Friend. By night
I intend to return Planets burn for the knoW
so traveling I go now... to find the Monk...
Sublime in my rhyme I leave you be.Number One
on the bridge a Time to see Spock's on the Clock
and I'll be back... Terms to later are better then
fights in flights of bad weather.And so. Make it so!
Applause!.EnterPrise.PeAce is the Prize. Write!
AND put some sauce in them Apples!Two.(h)Our Zulu.
The Mushroom Witch had a flair of her own
She Spun her spells around a mythical throne
Morels who knew her stayed out of her way
She was intense, she did not play.
The Mushroom Witch had a style unique.
Even the brave did not dare take a peek.
She took the names of those whom she suspected of double-cross.
And turned most of them into severe apple sauce.
Lampooning as an Angel of Mercy,
You'll find me near the bottom of the apple sauce jar.
This is not a sad tale, this is simple decomposition.
I am aware of the Jesus in me.
And you are too to some degree.
To some degree.
Come to think of it, you might also find me rimming
Right off a jar of kimchee.
Huh, what then would you think of me?
So hush up counting all things terrible.
Come grab this deliverable.
So free and so shareable.