Best Basted Poems

i heard a...what do they say...a spine chilling scream
...is that the saying?

a spine chilling scream
followed by

'he's dead, my G_d he's dead'

the phrase echoed 
inside the...

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Turkey's on the table, both legs up
Everything was fine, 'til I made the first cut!

The turkey unleashed a "CACKLE!", then jumped onto the floor
All you...

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Out back on that old tire swing

drifting to and fro in the springtime dusk

reliving childhood memories

she swings and smiles 

free as the red breasted robin

singing...

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Across from this municipality by the bay

I silently stand here

Looking deeply upon the open waters

Currents that make there way

Beyond the moon reflecting tide

The colourful lights....

Stillness...

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Tom Turkey has been defrocked
Cleaned, basted and stuffed
Surrounded by pumpkin pie
Green bean casserole
Tart cranberry sauce
Come, Pilgrim,
Eat!...

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The see-saw backsides of obesity traverse across the promenade
  Led by bustling torpedo breasts thrusting through the hustling throng;
Past tarnished chromium espresso bars, burger...

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In my ear something whispers, tells of tales of burning blisters,
forbids the haunting of my sisters, last of sons to bear our name.
Like fleas in...

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Across from this municipality by the bay

I silently stand here

Looking deeply upon the open waters

Currents that make there way

Beyond the moon reflecting tide

The colourful lights....

Stillness...

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Back when he was seven, our son won a contest
   In his class, his turkey recipe adjudged the best
He was so happy, floating...

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The farmer said to the cow
Be quiet you old sow
To which she replied
I am not a pig, I am a mooing cow!
He looked at her...

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My Grandmother's recipe
Here, yet she is gone.
Plump turkey stuffed with veggies,
Spices sprinkled on.
Basted until done.
Delicious,
YUM!


I'm most thankful for family!

P.S.- Complete recipe available upon request by...

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A short letter to this Hot Summer Day, 
I get it, you’re a furnace from the sky.
And you want to play chef, to bake and...

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I sauntered out of an Irish Pub
Basted in booze and Irish smooze
The whiskeys sure didn’t cover the blues
Me, I knew this wasn’t good news

As a...

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HEAT BY DEGREES  (a semi erotic poem)

Feathered shivering fingertips   
give way to erotic heat by degrees,
the hot-cool beat of lovers in cadence.

If,...

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Run turkey, run!
The farmer's on his way;
He's got a big ol' axe in hand,
No time to weep or pray!

You can hide behind the barn,
Or crouch...

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