Best Buffet Poems
A Lyrical Chef we'll call 'Dre',
whips up Writes for her Poem buffet.
She bakes Words into Rhyme
and roasts Prose in the time
it takes most just to cook a Cliché!
************************
This limerick was written for
my Soup buddy Andrea Dietrich.
Thank you for your positive
input and excellent support -
you are appreciated!. xoxo
10,000 people gathered on the beach that day
as he entered the stage wearing sandals he'd say,
"WOW! look at YOU come to lend a hand"
Then he grabbed his guitar to strike up his band
Ten thousands strong held their drinks in the air
in hopes to raise money for the Gulf Oil scare
The Sun was his strobe light, speakers the same
Today is the day they all shout Jimmy's name!
But far above the crowd the choppers did film
while boats bobbed at sea just looking at him
for he'd travelled the world though mostly by boat
His love of the Sea meant a stick that could float
Yes there were women, wine, stogies and beer
along with his reefers he'd never known fear
Though quite famous his words as you see,
"If the phone doesn't ring. . . . it's me!"
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVHKBMrPi7U
Moonlit Buffet
Is that laughter I hear
floating about in the air
or the cooing of the breeze
as it teases the willow
to dance with giggling glee
before the sun sounds
its final drum beat
and night descends
------------
Inhale deeply…..
drown peacefully
with pleasure
as the honeysuckle
and wisteria share
their sweet potent scent
under cover of darkness
beguiling the succulent
to come and play
----------------
The softest of whispers
hear we now ……
the hushed soothing
sound in the darkness
as the breeze
gentles its breath
and the spider spins
another web with
thoughts of prey
dancing tautly,
wrapped and served warm
on her homemade
moonlit tray
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By: Debra Squyres 5/22/12
Miss Muffet was a girl of thirteen, filled with youth's beauty and charm;
And a love of vibrant life zealous, like eager, vivid thunder of blue alarm.
She was a fine student, pert and popular; like the primrose popularity;
Or stars appearing at the designated hour, sparkling like crystal clarity.
Mary Muffet lived in a small town, with loving parents and her siblings,
Who sympathized with her fear of spiders; like colorful, fall misgivings.
Friends flanked their white picket fence, in fall days of glamour, striking;
And wove fanciful tales with flourish, like flowering genesis, so enticing!
Far off family ofttimes visited Fernglen, with its farms, rich with future;
For fishing and other rollicking fun, staying on 'til varicolored, fall rumor.
They lived in the house of quaint beauty, like charming red, berry sun;
Fondly gazing on pearly moon twice daily, the ritual begun on day one.
Songs sunrise to sunset serenaded, on dappled, silent, Sowerby Street;
But, a scorching summer bled scarlet roses, at the red butterfly retreat.
Near neighbors stayed on a first name basis, in unending, plum seasons;
Of days and nights of green nature; like teal surf, which never weakens.
Summer's glory was in the tiny details, like prayer plants, giving praise;
When sun face orchids, wore sunny smiles, in colored fields of noon haze.
And jade baby toes plants were crawling, through hours of soon history;
In honey days of bicolored hibiscus, filled with heady scents of mystery.
Mary attended a church celebration one day, along with her whole family;
And food was served indoors and out, as pink robin sang of gold, happily.
Mary had such fun playing games! There was much laughter and talking.
Then Mary had a craving for cheese, so like shadows, inside went walking.
Once inside, 'Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider, who sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.'
As Mary screamed and ran, causing a rumpus, she drew a lot of attention;
But, was suddenly embarrassed by her overreaction, like fall's suspension.
Little Miss Muffet was thence more mature, a natural result of getting older,
And fear of spiders was left behind, like summer blossoming, grown bolder.
America is not a Free Buffet
Loch David Crane, M. Ed.
Border Patrol Auxiliary
22 September 2008
America is not a free buffet
for benefit of those from far away.
We have our borders, customs, laws, and rules
securing our posterity from fools,
criminals, diseased people, and those
who mean us harm and carry bombs.
Malaria and leprosy are brought
by the undocumented who aren't caught.
The dumb, the desperate, or the diseased,
those lacking skills and schooling from "back home,"
all feel entitled through our fence to roam.
They break in here, and that's why we're displeased.
But those who choose to come here legally
have done it right, deserving to be free.
To start - fresh salsa with chips;
then that combo plate:
Cheesy enchiladas, beans,
and beef tamales
smothered all in sauce.
Mine’s wicked
hot!
What happened to the nearby pizza buffet?
They have pulled up their stakes and moved away.
For a meal, what they offered was not bad.
On the menu was pizza, soup, dessert, and salad.
Apparently, their operations were not showing a profit.
Because of this, they have decided to quit.
There are other places still operating within the chain.
However, getting to the nearest would be a pain.
There is one that is over forty miles away.
I may get over there and try them someday.
Life is a never ending series
Of highs and a bunch of lows
Where we're heading, what lies ahead
We really don't want to know
Let it all be a big surprise
We're just along for the ride
Some make a lasting impression on folks
Some don't as hard as they try
Some seem destined for greatness
Born with a silver spoon
But in the end, when your number's up
It's farewell financial tycoon
The most successful entrepreneur
Cannot opt out of the plan
It's not the size of your portfolio that counts
It's your value to your fellow man
When we really get down to basics
We put our pants on one leg at a time
So give yourself a reality check, folks
Be helpful be generous and kind
Life is really a never ending series
Of highs and a bunch of lows
Where we're heading, what lies ahead
We really don't want to know
© Jack Ellison 2014
We tried something different this year
A Thanksgiving day buffet
I really like the leftovers though
So I lined my pockets with cellophane
To justify my actions
As I stood in line
With the twenty bucks I was paying
Would a little take out be such a crime
Being a master of illusion
I pointed and said is that Santa Claus
While everyone was looking
I filled my back pockets with cranberry sauce
Things were running rather smoothly
As we moved along
I was stuffing everything from giblets to gravy down my drawers
As if there was nothing wrong
With tomorrows lunch now in my pockets
I went back to the table to dine
Forgetting the cranberry sauce in my rear as I sat
I squirted the lady behind me in the eye
Her husband jumped quickly into action
He was a mountain of a man
We'll just call him Everest
I didn't have time to catch his name
He picked me up and started shaking
That's when my stuffing's came flying out
Tomorrows meal went everywhere
Splattering the entire dining crowed
There was quite a ruckus
As we chased around the restaurant
It's going to be hard to get my leftovers back
Now that I've lost my air of nonchalant
As we were knocking over tables
I got the idea to grab peoples plates
Not wanting to be a spoiler of the holidays
Out the door I hollered back...
Have A Happy Thanksgiving Day!
Arabic labelling on bottles of water,
Room overlooking bricks and mortar,
Men want tips for being your porter,
Getting to food is a pitiless slaughter.
Piles of olives and eggs sit just right,
In bowls coloured an abyss of white,
Odd cuisine makes a peculiar sight,
This is the date I’ll be having tonight.
Cold meat and ham sit on your plate,
Plenty queues; too much time to wait,
Stomach rumbles, hunger won’t abate,
Hurry it’ll all be gone if you arrive late!
the radio plays
i consider some topics
and then post haiku
I must say a bewildered chill ran down my back
When I learned the gigantic billions you throw to charity,
A big heart that only the heavens could endow,
That resonates with a compassion for those in depravity
And to them that circumstances have dealt a blow.
Ninety-nine percent of your elephantine fortune,
You've chosen to give them that Providence gave not,
Perhaps an orphan or a widow desperate;
Them that the windows of heaven probably forgot;
Of basic means and amenities bereft.
May the celestial godowns full of treasures unseen,
Be emptied upon your head by the unerring heavens;
May the imperishable extraterrestrial benediction be upon your soul,
And may your childrens' children( all your descendants in whole),
Partake of Christ's cup of grace and glory,
For earth has never before heard this beautiful story.
At eighty the weight of time upon you sits,
But he can never worry who has for others lived;
Demise is only a crown fit for arms that for the hapless worked;
It's by the heavenly crew well-received
A soul that on great causes embarked,
And chose to pursue the precarious path of philanthropy.
May you live to be older than any Methuselah;
The world can never have enough of your heart,
And no matter how much I endeavor with all the skill of art,
It never can suffice to praise your benevolent deeds;
Let the gifted seraphs for you compose a rhyme
And the mute galaxies its rhythm mime,
To laud the deeds you've stamped upon the face of earth,
For you've penciled upon faces forlorn lines of mirth.
We tried something different this year
A Thanksgiving day buffet
I really like the leftovers though
So I lined my pockets with cellophane
To justify my actions
As I stood in line
With the twenty bucks I was paying
Would a little take out be such a crime
Being a master of illusion
I pointed and said is that Santa Claus
While everyone was looking
I filled my back pockets with cranberry sauce
Things were running rather smoothly
As we moved along
I was stuffing everything from giblets to gravy down my drawers
As if there was nothing wrong
With tomorrows lunch now in my pockets
I went back to the table to dine
Forgetting the cranberry sauce in my rear as I sat
I squirted the lady behind me in the eye
Her husband jumped quickly into action
He was a mountain of a man
We'll just call him Everest
I didn't have time to catch his name
He picked me up and started shaking
That's when my stuffing's came flying out
Tomorrows meal went everywhere
Splattering the entire dining crowed
There was quite a ruckus
As we chased around the restaurant
It's going to be hard to get my leftovers back
Now that I've lost my air of nonchalant
As we were knocking over tables
I got the idea to grab peoples plates
Not wanting to be a spoiler of the holidays
Out the door I hollered back
Have a Happy Thanksgiving Day!
By Elton Camp
The manager saw Gordo nearing the café
“Hide the all-you-can-eat sign,” he did say
Gordo had been to his place before
He didn’t want to serve him anymore
Three hundred pounds is his weight
It’s astonishing the amount he ate
Due to how much food he put away
They lost the profit of half a day
The sign they couldn’t get out of sight
Gordo entered with a smile of delight
The manager and waitress he did greet
“This is my very favorite place to eat!”
“The buffet looks good over there
Because I’m as hungry as a bear!”
Bacon on his plate he piled high
A huge serving of ham he did try
“Scrambled eggs, I just adore.”
Ate a lot and went back for more
Gravy and biscuits were on his menu
He added grits and home fries, too
When they thought he was done
Back for more Gordo would run
The buffet he soon stripped bare
“Put out more, if you don’t care.”
While watching what was going on
The manager, in despair, did groan
After two hours, Gordo went away
A quarter tip on his table did lay
“If he ever again should come our way,
Tell we’re closed,” the manager did say
young hummingbird bush
has yet to bloom – still they fly…
taste of spring in the air
sweet nectar is sipped
from the daffodil trumpets…
wings fluttering fast
irises in sight
colorful birds visit them…
bellies still not full
azaleas call out
the hummingbirds last retreat…
satisfied, they nest
*Entry for Sidney Lee Ann’s “ Sweet Flowers and Hummingbirds" contest
by Carolyn Devonshire