Best Bons Poems


Premium Member For All The Sweet Lovers

Flying Saucers, Flake, Bar Six
Country Style, Gobstoppers, Twix

Arrow Bars and Sherbert Dabs
Sweet Tobacco, Lucky Bags

Toffee Crisp and Dairy Crunch
Grand Seville and Milky Lunch

Beta Bars, Loot, Candy Floss
The mysterious chewing gum flavour loss

Golden Crisp, Nut Crisp and Fuse
Extra, Bliss and Trebor Chews

Caramel and Raspberry Ruffles
Drifter and Milk Chocolate Truffles

‘99’ Flake ice cream cones
Zooms and Fabs and Toblerones

Coffee Break, Bitz, Victory Vs
Cadbury’s Special Recipes

Swisskit, Gold Mine, Apple Jack
Tiffin, Feast and Caramac

Welcome, Skippy and Sultana
Nutty, Banjo and Cabana

Chewing Nuts, Cough Candy Twist
Butterscotch and Butterkist

Crunchie, Topic, Fudge, Mintola
Super Mousse, Crazy Joe Cola

Golden Cup, Fruit Flavoured Rocks
(The secret of) The Black Magic Box

Floral Gums and Cherry Lips
Olde English Spangles, Walnut Whips

Kinder toys encased in plastic
Necklace sweets linked on elastic

Butter Mints, Fruit Polos, Yorkies
Sherbert Lemons, Sherbert Strawberries

Bazooka Joes and Liquorice pipes
Lollipops with swirly stripes

Mint Cracknel, Taxis, long red laces
Texan Bars and Funny Faces

Winter Mixture, Rainbow Drops
Jazzies, Kit Kat, Pips, Ice Pops

Toffee Bon Bons, Drumsticks, Rolos
Amazin’ Raisin, Aztec, Mojos

Barley Sugar, Chocolate Limes
Daims that changed their name from Dimes

Jelly Babies, Jelly Tots
Milk Gums, Munchies, Mars, Pear Drops

Coltsford Rock and Anglo Bubblies
Sugared Almonds, Frozen Jubliies

Peanut Brittle, Prize, Ice Breaker
Dolly Mixtures, Old Jamaica

Kop Kops, Wine Gums, Laughs and Treets
Jap Desserts and whistling sweets

Fishermen's Friends and Hacks and Zubes
Pineapple Chunks and Cola Cubes

Everton Mints and Pontefract Cakes
White chocolate mice and jelly snakes

Refreshers, Teacakes, Swizzles, Pacers
Toffee Logs, Fruit Gums and Waifers

Rumba, Dipped Flake, T Bar, Tunes
Fry's Five Centres, Macaroons

Bars and boxes of Milk Tray
Milky Bar and Milky Way


This ‘Pick and Mix’ is yours to share

With all sweet lovers 

everywhere.

'n Hart Van Goud

Ek was gevra om ietsie oor Pa te sê
Maar waar begin ek nou
Wanneer daar eintlik net een ding is wat ek nou wil doen
Om steeds my arms om Pa te vou

Maar nou is Pa weg
Na ‘n plek waar Pa tog graag wou wees
Bo by Liewe Jesus
Maar bly steeds hier by ons in gees

‘n Man met ‘n hart van goud
Wie slegs goeie dinge oor mense kon sê
‘n Bonatuurlike liefde vir ons 
En wie slegs die beste vir sy kinders wou hê

Streng het ons grootgeword
Maar dit was oor Pa lief was vir ons
En alles wat ek as Pa se dogter wou hê
Was dat ek Pa se hart van trotsheid laat bons

Nou is ons Pa en Ma se maatjie weg
Ons belowe om mekaar te ondersteun
En aan die herinneringe te hou van ‘n besonderse man
Wat God slegs vir ons kon leen

‘n Man met ‘n Hart van goud 
Dit is hoe ek Pa altyd sal onthou 
En nou is dit tyd om totsiens te sê
Al wens ek, ek kon steeds my arms om Pa vou 

*Dear PoetrySoup Members. I apologise to those of you who does not understand Afrikaans, but this poem is dedicated to a dear friend of mine who is Afrikaans. She told me a little bit about her father who recently passed on and I decided to put it together in a poem for her. I hope you guys do not mind. TS poetry was an absolute gem and translated what I wrote in my poem in his comment below. Thank you TS Poetry*
© BE Bailey  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Rapunzel's Revenge

The ugly witch kept her in a tower
And made her work hour after hour,
Until her loved prince set her free
When he said, “Rapunzel, marry me.”

The old witch had a raving fit
And truly carried on a bit.
She said “I’ll fix that mangy prince,
By brewing my magic herbs and quince.”

The prince, not so dumb as the witch thought,
Dug a big trap. The witch was caught.
He forced her to drink her own homebrew
And added some of his own stuff too.

The witch lay there in a big stupor,
Elves came along, tried to recoup her.
They thought she was their friend SnowWhite.
They fed her bon bons day and night.

They noticed she was getting bigger
And pretty soon would lose her figure.
They gave her to a passing frog
Who carried her to his marriage log.

He’s proud of his bride and her loud croak
But the witch is sad, her life’s a joke.
The moral of this is plain to see
Or that’s the way it seems to me

Don’t keep a damsel in distress.
Or it may be you whose life’s a mess.  



For John Heck's "Happily Ever After? contest  won 9th


Premium Member If It Isn't Johnny B Appleseed!

I never round-or-flatly disagreed
with Johnny Appleseed,
so red, so crisp, so...quite. 
Never in the dawning, evening dawn
did I fly up or s*it upon...John James Audobon
in the evening, morning night. 

Ah, I'd never be rude or eat the food
of the pulchritudinous Johnny B Goode.
How could I?
And why would I harm 
odorless, flightless John Barleycorn 
or give him Spanish flea?

I'd sail the vast untarted sea,
or play drums obstreperously, 
with that flapjack, John Paul Jones,
but what kind of pancake would I be
if I revealed I was bigger than, by three, 
that wunderkind, John Holmes?

Would I ask Johnny on the Spot
for a rag to wipe my snot?
Unindubitably!
Would I surprise him with mascara,
or do the backstroke in marinara
like a mushroom in a noodly sea?

I'd be on time for Johnny Come Lately,
and eat bon bons till I sat, oblately,
under the midday moon. 
I'd tell Johnny Carson, "That's a wrap"
and neatly wrap my dog's crap
up with cellophoone.

What about John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, 
that diaphanous, novelty hit? 
Would I blast him with the guns of Navarone
under a sky that sticks like the glue
of a colorless, humid, hue?
Would I deny him a raisin scone?
No! 

When Johnny Comes Marching In gets home,
I'd serve him grits and iridescent cornpone,
and sit him on my knee.
Then I give him a lavender shout,
and set up an appointment for my gout,
superciliously.

Would I ask John the Baptist to convert?
No, I'd offer him some camembert
and crackers!
And the sprightly John the Apostle?
I'd offer him a waffle.
and crackers 
(for dessert).

Oh John Keats, dear clapboard poet - you left too soon,
before I could offer you a macaroon,
or anything that leaves a crumb.
There's a reason I asked you for tea. 
Give me a sign.  Tell me honestly,
do you think I'm a doofus - dopey, dippy, daft and dumb?

Would I pull the leg or make fun...or steal a tart, chocolate eclair, pineapple upside down cake or cinnamon bun
from the beetle, John Winston Lennon?
Nope, I imagine I wouldn't, in truth, 
but I'd surely pull the tooth
of the weevil John Wilkes Booth
under the midnight sun.

Premium Member Let the Good Times Roll

Anacreontic Verse
  Let The Good Times Roll

1t's Mardi Gras time
  in New Orleans
    the French say
      laissez les
        bons temps rouler 
        let the good times roll.
         they roll in the streets
       nights of revelry
     Bourbon Street throngs
    of people dancing
   merriment, laughter
    alias Fat Tuesday
      parades, drinking
       such debauchery
         throws of beads
           to half naked
          women who scream 
         and shout, Hey Mister
       throw me something
      rewarded with smiles
     A time for fun like
      no place else.
       City Care Forgot?
        only on the day
         care does not exist

            10/26/15
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Haricot From Baton Rouge

(Aieee! We Gon’ Pass A Good Time Yeah Cher …Enjoy et Laisez les bons temps rouler)


Haricot was tall and quite lean
In English they would call him String Bean
Haricot would often travel down the Bayou
by way of pirogue to visit with his sister Sue  

Every one knew when Haricot came through
The morning would start with the smell of Roux
Caf Noir, Hot hush puppy’s and biscuits too
one could feel music of the zydeco by mid-afternoon 

And Haricot would shout Laisez les bons temps rouler 
The town folk and kinfolk alike would gather that day
Some found sipping on bourbon  and café au lait 
while awaiting the succulent taste of Cochon de lait 

Oh the savory taste of Lagniappe which filled the air
All truly possessed  la Joie de vivre 
Consuming Andouille and Boudin flavored with the Bouquet Garni 
Children could be found nibbling on sweet Beignet 

While elders could be found playing a game of Bouree' 
The women would have prepared jambalaya, Gumbo’s, Grillades
As the sunsets all will have ate every thing from their bowls and plates
And all would begin again to dance  Fais-do-do 
Haricot would shout too all and his sister Sue 

Mon cher, mon cher sûrement ceci est la vie
Good music good friends, family, dancing and cuisine
ceci habite véritablement Sue et tout agreed


Premium Member Candy

A special treat as a tyke was a trip to the candy store,
Pressing my nose to the glass eyeing tasty candies galore!
With pennies in hand trying to make a profound decision,
The candy-man becoming impatient with my youthful indecision!

Gracious me!  All those marvelous delicacies in cartons and jars!
Jelly beans, lollipops, gum drops and heaps of chocolate bars;
Taffy, licorice, all-day suckers and jaw breakers too.
So much to choose from - what was a poor boy to do!

When I became a teenager and somewhat more urbane,
I forsook lollipops, horehound and the childish candy cane!
I much preferred heartier fare to sate my greedy sweet tooth,
Like Mounds, Pay Day, Milky Way and the good old Baby Ruth!

Now as I near the autumn of life's wild and treacherous tour,
I have a taste for more exotic sweets as I become more mature.
Truffles, pralines, penuche, bon bons and luscious divinity;
Almond roca and turkish delight - I could go on to infinity!

I researched the history of candy and here is what I found.
Cave persons discovered honey and consumed it by the pound!
Others concocted candied honey mixing in a bit of fruits and nuts.
History aside, I don't care - I relish candy no ifs, ands or buts!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)

Neuvième Fable

Neuvième Fable 
Neuvième Fable 
   
Tragic Love 
   
Internet Love 
   
L'amour pour les brebis ont des yeux est la même que iff nous wed. 
Les sentiments qu'elle me donne ne sont jamais remplis d'effroi. 
Mais rien ne peut rosée, elle me ferait jamais vouloir liquidation morts, mais la 
vie à l'amour qu'ils font le temps de vie au lieu. Eye pourrait marcher les couloirs 
de la mémoire et de vous déprimé ou des yeux pourrait devenir une religieuse 
coupable dans le plaisir et repos dans le couvent jusqu'à ce que la mort peut 
nous part de rosée de la mort peut donner mais ce qui me reste de l'amour. 
Comment un homme peut obtenir si excitée un peu au point vert en quelques 
clics de souris, puis une zone de chat blanc froid. L'encre n'est jamais humide 
sur papier mye frisolée encore là, il est son amour. Quand elle me sourit oeil 
sourire quand elle fronce les sourcils yeux pleurent une rivière de la stuffins 
conservés dans tout repose autochtones découlant de faire une faute de la mort 
semblent quelque peu à écrire les mots à la mandé coeur s'écarter de 
s'inquiéter et de malheur et de prendre le tout nouveau départ Et bientôt tout ça 
fonctionne pour l'amour. Blanche-Neige, elle a mangé la pomme, puis est 
tombé à s'endormir rapidement mais Charlax venu à l'embrasser et à vivre son 
éveil. Prince Charlax bons baisers. 
En direct sur le ruisseau la pêche de libellules dans une maison de l'amour. 
Mending coeur de charme. Faire l'amour dans le coeur. Mye neige blanche tortue 
pookie pochoucntous amour mon amour mon internet thrall. Nous pouvons avoir 
tout juste à tenir sur mes namme et de l'amour. 
Les chercheurs ont maintenant prouvé que l'amour peut réparer un cœur brisé.

Premium Member Monday

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
There's a mind numbing pain at work in my head.

Wash my hair and comb my face,
Something died in my mouth, where's the toothpaste.

Grab a quick bit of breakfast and rush out the door.
Can't find my keys they fell on the floor.

Finally find them and start the car.
I'm gonna be late, well that's about parr.

Hit every stop light on the way to work,
Look down and notice there's a stain on my shirt.

Forgot to let Spike out, he's crossing his legs.
Have to go back, this morning's the dregs.

The absolute bottom, the pits, it's the worst!
What else could happen, it seems that I'm cursed!

Wait a minute, it's Monday, first day of the week.
No wonder this day has begun so bleak.

Come ahead Monday, get it over with now!
I've got bon bons and chocolates and a little brown cow,

To soothe and to comfort my poor shattered nerves,
And to bind and to buffer the slings and the curves;

Do your worst Monday, come on have a fit!
You can't scare me, I've got chocolate!
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member MISS PIGGY


Miss piglet is at it again,
her blonde wigs, here we go,
her jealousy it always shows.

Her clothes are tight,
her lashes are glued, 
she loves to fight and throwing her shoes.

Her claim to fame was loving a frog,
he thought she was crazy,
and away he dodged.

She loved her bon, bons
she guzzled her liquor,
her piggy temper flowed even quicker.

Her oinks and squeals,
her high heels,
her red lips and long piggy tail.

She always blamed him, 
he was always wrong,
I somehow felt sorry for that poor little frog.

 "ribbit, ribbit, ribbit, and an oink or two"

Chemical Castration

When we first MET, you were so young and FAIR,
A hundred twenty POUNDS in your underWEAR.
We tied the KNOT, and the next thing I KNEW,
Your weight ballooned UP to 300 and TWO!
Your weight GAIN ended my infatuATION.
Lovin' YOU is like a chemical castRATION. 

Several times a WEEK when your mom stops BY,
She starts in on ME, and I just want to DIE!
She gripes and NAGS, got nothin' good to SAY,
Then you and SHE just eat bon-bons all DAY.
Your family TIES only add to my frustRATION.
Lovin' YOU is like a chemical castRATION.  

You decided that YOU'D take a drive in my CAR,
Just go to the STORE, it's not very FAR.
That short DRIVE ended up in a WRECK,
And my sweet RIDE was shot all to HECK!
I just wanna SHOUT IT all across the NATION:
Lovin' YOU is like a chemical castRATION!

(The form for this poem is accentual verse.)

Premium Member Funeral Strut - Po' Boy On a Fat Tuesday

Hey there, little Buddha, 
Let me join your Mistick Krewe.
Got my jazz hand clapping. 
Gonna drop the other shoe.
I strut my yo-yo yoga every doo-da day.
It get me so-so-sober in a drunken way.
Hey there, little Buddha, 
Voodoo me some déjà vu.
Those saints are marching in again; 
Another Bourbon Street debut.

Hey there, little Buddha, 
Save me from my karma’s wrath.
Calculate my blessings; 
Maybe you can do the math.
So many numb-numb-numbers, 
Couldn’t feel my way.
To get me near Nirvana, 
Need a CPA.
Hey there little Buddha, 
Lead me down the garden path. 
Those saints are here to party, boy. 
This Mardi Gras make ‘em laugh.

Hey there, little Buddha, 
Send your children out to play.
Pranayama mama, 
Laissez les bons temps rouler.
I'll chant my man-oh-mantra 
Till my eardrums ache
And clear my cha-cha chakras 
With a plumber’s snake.
Hey there little Buddha, 
Second line come first today.
Those saints will set your flag on fire. 
Jockomo feena nay.

Home Alone :)

Knife goes chopping with the beat,
on the mint which scent so sweet,
Rice arborio n' boiling heat,
Rocking rythm in my feet.
Robbie Williams on my radio,
My spoilt dog stretched in the patio,
Whilst i cook ,clean and sweep,
She is snoring fast asleep.
Washing floors,doing all chores,
In the oven,hot bon bons.
Ow.my God,Its getting late,
sheets are waiting to be layed,
Ironed skirts and steaming shirts,
burnt my finger,Ouch it hurts!
Some ice will have to do,
bumped my head,and turned out blue,
No time for me to feel so sorry,
Swollen head,No time for worry.
Ran upstairs in a breakdance,
to sit down,there's not a chance.
Jumping quickly in the shower,
whilst regaining some cat power,
tick tock-tick tock goes the clock,
there's no time for happy hour.
Brushed my teeth,High Heels in feet,
some perfume and a light treat.
All is ready,all is well,got my keys
texted a pal,Once again ding-dong,
the bell,at this moment,Who's the hell?
It's my neighbour from next door,
melts my ice.He's not a bore,
Cos Of him I'm running late,
guess my boss will have to wait.
Come on in,I said to him,
His left foot already in,
Handsome guy with a huge grin,
Sugar man,One man to win.
What Will i offer him ? a coffee?
I hadn't any beer,Some wine?
or some orange with gin?
Time was pressing in,
Called at work and did a sin,
Called my boss,I faked a fever,
So much thanks,She's a believer.
Smelled some pepper,started
sneezing,My boss's answer
was so pleasing,"Stay at home,
Get well dear,Lots of love and 
tender care,don't come close,
No need to share,bye,bye dear".
Problem solved,so wisely done,
Neighbour joined me in the garden,
so relaxed licking the Sun.
Ate lunch and had dessert,
He's a darling and a flirt,
After followed with more fun,
On my sofa,One ON One.


Charma
(This is all fiction,apart for the busy routine! My neighbours are good 
old neighbours too,and Im loyal to my boss,just in case..:-)

World Apart In One

For them:
	TGIF! It’s weekend;
	The ATM vomits its cods,
	Unwinding at the bars,
	The cinema’s got a blockbuster!
	Yes,…pizza… barbeque… red wine…chicken…
	…come on, keep the change girl, it’s weekend!

	Campuses empty for “World-Trade-Centers”;
	Hey, Two nights, Sunday’s off…your bill
	…turn on the gen. set boy! It’s weekend!

For us:
	We wake to trader’s knock,
	Farmers got to make thousand heaps,
	Laundry man washes his palms off,
	Bar attendants serve till time is still,
	Prostitutes, pounded for few pounds,
	‘Big brothers’ rob us to pay our bills,
	The maid knocked out without recharge;

	Labourer needs refill:
	“Malt?”
	“No…three coooold pure water”
	“And wetin?”
	“And, ehn…one groundnut.”
	“Finish?”
	“Add one bons biscuit,
              Put am for nylon”
              It’s glaring why;
              Their WEEKends earn us WEAKends!

At our homes,
“We’re fasting today[no prayer point]”
“Idiot children! Drink water and be fine”
“Go meet your mother!”
“Are you blind?”
“Turn off the lantern, tomorrow’s Church…”
… and so is our weakend!

My Girl Anna Conda

She is long, lean and very much into exercise
In body building contests, she always takes top prize
Now she is training for a Triathalon
Her mother coaches her from her car eating Bon Bons
She tells her it takes self discipline to succeed
As she is rolling up a joint from her dime bag of weed
She says you can accomplish anything you wanna
She is close to being my girl, my very own Anna Conda
I am usually sitting at her house watching her pet Gerbil
She runs my life, when she's not there, I really get verbal
I tell her Gerbil, Gertrude if you don't like it, then get out
I feel brave with Gertrude, so I really get loud
This has me thinking do I love her or her dominant ways
Sometimes I don't see her for days
So I call her sister for some support, her name is Rhonda
She tells me we better not talk, I don't wanna feel the wraith of Anna Conda
I tell her I am not afraid of her
Besides, she is busy at Shoney's Buffet feeding her mother
So Rhonda and I get together for some sneaky fun
I threaten Gertrude, you better not tell her what we've done
I am true American, I can't tolerate Commie Hoes like Jane Fonda
When will I be loved by Anna Conda
The phone rings, I am disappointed, it's only a bill collector
I didn't understand a word, but I did catch his name, he goes by Hector
So another a person who speaks English, tells me she is 3 months behind on her Honda
I tell the person, I dare you to come and get it, that's a direct quote from Anna Conda
Three days later the car is gone
She kicked my butt from Dusk til Dawn
Now I have a new love, her name is Vonda
The nightmares are still there, the virtual hauntings from Anna Conda

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