Best Beetroot Poems
I was at my favorite restaurant and I'd had a lovely meal,
if I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal
I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat,
the dessert menu was on its way, oh I couldn’t wait for that
The waitress brought the menus, I rubbed my hands with glee,
oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me
She came to take the order – we had waited as you do,
turning to me she said ‘now Madam, what can I get you’
Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply -
I didn’t realize what I’d said till I saw tears form in her eye.
I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh,
at my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe
The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave,
I choked on every mouthful, how my stomach it did heave
So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day,
if you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say!
My daughter's getting married
To a super guy called Tom,
It's really fast approaching,
It won't be very long.
The wedding dress is sorted,
The venue and the flowers,
The music and the fireworks,
But the cake, it took us hours.
We went to do some tasting,
Each sponge was quite divine,
Chocolate orange, vanilla
Pimms, coffee and praline.
The raspberry and the champagne
Made us salivate,
Strawberry and white chocolate
Tasted oh so great.
There was banana and spicy cinnamon,
Ginger and caramel,
All so gratifying,
Oh and Battenberg as well.
The carrot cake with walnuts
Was tasty as can be,
Rhubarb and rose petal
And one flavoured with green tea.
Piña colada with coconut
Like kisses on our lips,
Chocolate tiramisu
Oh the calories on our hips.
Odd flavours such as beetroot,
Pistachio and courgette
Were actually quite delightful,
A taste we won't forget.
Earl Grey with lavender,
Pumpkin with peanut butter,
Mouth-wateringly delectable
They got us all a flutter.
Chocolate fudge with peppermint,
Marshmallow and key lime,
Traditional dried fruit,
They were all sublime.
How could we make our choices
For a three tiered wedding cake,
We just couldn't do it
So we've gone for twenty-eight!
4th March 2017
Original Poem Just Desserts
I was at my favourite restaurant and had a lovely meal
If I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal
I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat
The dessert menu was on its way, Oh I couldn’t wait for that
The waitress bought the menus and I rubbed my hands with glee
Oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me
She came to take the order – we had waited as you do
She finally turned to me and said ‘oh Madam what can I get you’
Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply
I didn’t realise what I’d said till I saw the tears form in her eye
I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh
At my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe
The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave
I choked on every mouthful and my stomach it did heave
So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day
If you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say!
2nd February 2014
This was my first poem posted here and was is my first poem to be published in a book by United Press
Response Poem to Just Desserts
When I read my ‘Just Desserts’ poem, oh I made such a gaffe
I am petrified it will happen again and everyone will laugh
At home I have been practicing the correct words I have to say
To order sticky toffee pudding again will really make my day
We still go to this local restaurant for a tasty treat
I love the food they serve, it’s a lovely place to eat
But when its time to choose my dessert then I begin to shake
After my terrible Spoonerism I can’t make the same mistake
I smile sweetly at the waitress who comes to take my choice
Then clear my throat gently so I have a steady voice
I want to order sticky toffee pudding, the dessert of my dream
But I chicken out at the last minute and order an ice cream!
Contest - A response to My First Poem
Sponsored by Silent One
09~27~15
I read Darryl Ashton’s poem Called Pinocchio Rex and this brought back
memories of a childhood incident
When I grew up we had a smallholding – the house was called ‘Longacre’ as we
had over an acre of land. Over the years we had chickens, pigs named Pinky
and Porky and a goat called Susie… she had kids called Billy and Nanny – guess
I was no good at names back then… but I digress
Attached to the house was a small village shop but my parents also made a
small income from selling fresh eggs and in the summer home grown
strawberries – I would help pick washing baskets of them and bag them up to
sell.
Every week a little old man would arrive for his dozen eggs and if the shop was
shut he would ring the doorbell. He wore a pointed felt hat, had steely blue
eyes and the most enormous nose you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to him
my parents nicknamed him 'Pinocchio'.
When I was aged about 7 years old the doorbell rang – mum was busy baking
in the kitchen so I answered it. There in front of me stood this old man wanting
his eggs. Mum shouted from the kitchen
‘Who is it Janet?’
I replied ‘Oh its only Pinocchio’
At once mum appeared from the kitchen, her face was the colour of beetroot.
She apologised for the comment from her ‘cheeky daughter’ The man
purchased his eggs and walked away – never to return!
The moral of this true tale is that parents ALWAYS tell the truth and that
children have ears the size of an elephant and a mouth just as big … so if you
don’t want them to repeat something YOU have said keep it zipped!
Jan Allison
11th August 2014
I worked in an Insurance office and loved my job
But the manager was an idle fat slob
He’d put in expenses sheets for work he hadn’t done
And was out of the door in front of everyone
But I digress…
He asked me to call two people on the phone
Could’ve called them himself but I didn’t moan
When I saw the names of the people I thought it was a joke
Surely these couldn’t be real names of these unfortunate folk
One man was called Olaf Pratt
I saw his name and laughed at that
The second was called Mr Erdogdu
It made me think of doggy pooh on my shoe!
I picked up the phone to dial the first number
But I started to laugh, it was a real blunder
I was unable to call; all I could do was giggle
My tears flowed and how my shoulders did wiggle
I composed myself to try and make the second call
Pressed a couple of digits, but I couldn’t dial them all
For I started laughing at Mr Erdogdu’s name
I’d failed at my task it was a terrible shame
The boss came in and asked why I hadn’t called
When he saw I’d been laughing he was quite appalled
I was as red as a beetroot and had tears in my eyes
To me the names were SO funny, this fact I couldn’t disguise
Snatching the piece of paper he gave me the cold shoulder
I cringe at this memory even though now I’m so much older
Since then I’ve had friends with surnames of Moron and Looney
I’m glad I’m more mature now and not that lass that was gooney!
This poem really is based on true events but I had to make these calls on separate days and not together as in this tale … but the result was the same I couldn’t make these calls for laughing at these unfortunate names.
My most embarrassing moment Contest Sponsored by Cindi Rockwell
07~15~16
I bought her a bunch of blue violets and roses of red
Pure romantic thoughts were going around in my head.
Thought I'd surprise her and went round to her back door
There she was with my best friend, sprawled out on the floor.
She saw me and screamed saying "it's not what you think"
I lost one of my gold earrings under the kitchen sink.
Her face was red as beetroot, my former friend too
We exchanged insults and the air then turned blue.
Well I'm certainly no idiot and I have travelled worldwide
And it opened my eyes that she was taking me for a ride.
But there's one thing for sure, it killed my romantic mood
And you don't search for an earring when you're in the nude.
Written 8th February 2022.
NOT FOR CONTEST.
PICKLE PARTY
The pickles were having a party
In the superstore one night.
The manager was home in bed
So they knew they were all right.
It was a singles party,
Each looking for a mate.
Someone to share a jar with
Until their sell-by date.
One lady pickled pepper
Immediately clicked.
She was the pickled pepper
Peter Piper picked
A young girl in the corner
Was acting very silly
Under the influence of drink.
They called her ‘Pickled Lilli”
But the drunkest one among them
Was a pickled gherkin.
He’d been at the bar all evening.
He must have drunk a firkin.
He had a well-used chat-up line,
But whatever it was he said,
It must have been a bit saucy
For the beetroot turned bright red.
An old pickle said to the DJ,
“Please turn the music down”
He was a pickled walnut,
Ancient, wrinkled and brown
A very sweet pickle called Olive
And an onion got on very well.
But although they felt an attraction,
It was doomed to fail, sad to tell
They say that opposites attract
But you have to draw the line.
She had been pickled in vinegar
And he had been pickled in brine.
Then all too soon it was over.
The party had come and gone.
They had to go home to their shelves.
The day shift was signing on.
24th August 2022
It's a Pickle Party poetry contest
Sponsor - Mystic Rose Rose
Clem Kadidlehopper had two whoppers,
Two burgers with the works may be stoppers,
Double meat, egg, beetroot, tomato and cheese,
For a burger connoisseur this could only please,
No problem for Clem and his great big choppers.
alternate last line: Clem woofed them down with his great big choppers.
The Large Hadron Collider was built deep beneath the Earth
to help reveal the secrets of the Universe's birth.
I'm not quite sure what benefits this expensive research brings
but I wish that they would give answers to more important things-
Like, when you're in a rush, why all the traffic lights are red,
why every night the missus takes up four-fifths of the bed.
If love has got no spikes or blades, why does it often hurt?
And how does boiled beetroot know you're wearing a white shirt?
So, Scientists, splitting a proton just to find what it unlocks,
maybe in the black hole you'll find a pile of my odd socks?
baked beetroot in balsamic
carrots with cummin
sizzling prawns in mayonaise
lettuce and radishes
cold rasberryade
Olive oli
Press!
Oh Angelique my dear I remember you so well
The years have passed so fast and all too soon,
A particular incident that got out of hand, will now re-tell,
A day that went askew like air escaping a hot air balloon.
Jenny’s Travel in its hey-day, was held in esteem
Good clients spoke about us, to more than a few,
My mom joined me, we became a formidable team,
Took many clients to lunch, one of these I still rue!
I was far younger then, client my mom’s age,
She came with a partner, Angelique was one of our best,
My aunt knew Angelique she could be fun, the stage
Was set, we stupidly invited Aunty Maria the pesky pest!
Angelique introduced her companion John to us three,
My aunt well known for putting her foot in it,
Mom, and beetroot red me, well we had to agree,
Things looked odd, but what was next said, was bad I admit.
My Aunt Maria spoke with a heavy accented Greek tone,
Said she, you must have had John when you were young
Do you know he looks like you, I should have known,
He’s my boyfriend, Angelique said, watch your tongue!
Maria I quickly interrupted, it is half past one, you told
Me you had a doctors appointment, you’d better leave on the double
Or you’ll miss it, she understood that she was out of line and bold,
Guests got a tad bit drunk, we called a taxi, what a horrible muddle.
All was forgotten by the next sunny morn,
Angelique called, John enjoyed lunch, she thanked us,
Our business relationship steadfast and strong,
A storm in a teacup, finally free of stress and fuss.
ROAD TO DAMASCUS
Granite faith exfoliated by superguns and sanctions whirls,
on this earth succumbing into dry spell of peace,
War-crats and confidantes skinning freedom from its people
Kofi drinking coffee with revolutionaries and revolutionaries in
Aleppo cafe on his way to Damascus
Daughters eating NGOs, GMOs, condoms and twitter
Bullet scorching the feet of super diplomats and mediators
Wiki leaks castrating the reputation of this state
Opportunists and oppositionists eating asparagus and liver in candle light dinners
Selfish pseudo prophets calculating political matrixes, salmonella laced sugar tongued
Democrats cooking autocratic beetroot and propaganda pizza for media rituals and puppets initiation.
____________________________________________________________
Foreman was a dog of a man,
Talked and bullied all he can,
Johnson hesitated,
he got frustrated,
beetroot surely hit the spam, ham.
john freeman
Contest Name Limericks Hilarious
Amelia she loves to chat and tells an amusing story
But dear readers BEWARE – this one’s a little gory
She worked long hours at night as a barmaid
It was a job she loved and good wages she got paid
She’d had a busy day and her pits were a little whiffy
So she had a little bath – it would only take a jiffy
So into the bath Amelia got, she sank into the bubbles
But this was only the beginning of Amelia’s troubles
Amelia did a little fart but unfortunately followed through
And in the bath was floating a little bit of poo
Amelia got out quickly and left the bath to drain
But unbeknown to her the turd it did remain
She got dressed and ready to go - she had to get her lift
To the pub she loved to work in she always enjoyed her shift
With the customers Amelia was always a big hit
She didn’t let on her secret that in the bath she’d done a little poop*
But it was a Wednesday night and a quiz was on this day
Amelia she loved this challenge and she would always play
The final question stumped many people but they wanted to be the winner
Which barmaid crapped in the bath tonight and could they name the sinner?
The one in the white t-shirt some of the customers did shout
Amelia went as red as a beetroot- she couldn’t wait to get out
But the customers they did shout and cheer
And poor Amelia had to pour them another beer
Now Amelia no longer works in the bar
She works as a receptionist – she’s really come far
She loves her new job and always likes to talk
But to stop her following through now she always wears a cork.
· I had to change this from the S*** word as I know swearing is not allowed – but the expletive does make the poem flow better.
Jan Allison
19th March 2014
~submitted for contest Take 2 Free poetry contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud ~
- Unplaced in contest 'tickle my funny bone' sponsored by Francine Roberts ~
~ Please see notes about this poem ~
All the Pickled produce gathered
At Branston Manor - if you please!
They entered via a staircase
Made of Jacob's Crackers and Cheese.
The Gherkin Girls and Chutney twins,
Who's names are Tom and Mango
Compete against the Beetroot Troupe
To make the taste buds Tango!
The Beetroot Troupe are not alone.
They have a wise old friend
Zingy Mr. Vinegar.
Always ready to defend.
The Silverskins call upon
The Shallots acapella choir
To pack a punchy added flavour
In a pitch that can't go higher.
The sour Grapes sulk in the corner.
They apparently should not have come.
Only Pickles were invited.
It was not open to everyone.
The Eggs got pickled with too much drink.
They thought it would be fun
To gatecrash the party
Just to confuse everyone!
It was an event to be remembered.
But alas, though sad to say
The party ended abruptly.
For they were consumed that very day!
Written 18th August 2022
For the, "It's A Pickle Party Contest"
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose