Best Cobbler Poems
"Caleb, go fetch me some dewberries from the fence row," Momma says,
as I polish off my Saturday morning breakfast. "I'll make us a cobbler."
She stands in her humble kitchen, the light of a country morning dawns
on her face. She's beautiful. I'd be happy to walk a hundred miles to
fetch her berries, or anything else. She hands me an old milk carton
with the top cut out of it. I burst out the door, running for the fence row
with the dog close behind. "And watch for snakes," she hollers after me.
As I round the edge of the 40 acre soybean field, I take the time to thank
God my dad doesn't have me hoeing weeds out of it.
toes peek out
from the canvass sneakers –
milk mustache
The dewberry vines meander beneath the line of fencing in between
the posts. I poke the undergrowth with my walking stick, trying to shoo
out any snakes! The berries ripen early this year in the Arkansas heat
wave. The stickers get me good where my big toe pokes out, I wince.
It’s too late now to go back for boots. The berries are real ripe and juicy,
staining my fingers as I drop them into the jug. “Two for me and one for
Momma,” I laugh and a passing Jay mimics with a caw.
Momma's call
carries down the row
stomach growls
Poets: Caleb Smith & Debbie Guzzi
See About the Poem
Categories:
cobbler, growing up,
Form:
Haibun
Around the corner and half a block away, the flavor would grab me, tie me up to some irresistible force, then drag my nose to the source of its home. The aroma that wafted in the air and up my whiffer was sweet and warm - rich with orchards of deliciousness and cascading with the buttery peachy-ness of what was to come. It knocked all other thoughts out of my realm and led me down a path of complete submission - surrendering like the energy of cold water on a hot skillet. With each step bringing me closer, my musing would swirl with the anticipation of that first ultra-luscious, gratifying juicy bite - the one that ever so longingly and lovingly would delightfully roll around on every palate of my watering mouth and lingering tongue only to succumb to gulping down the first chunk.
From the flour and water and salt
Her timeworn hands kneaded magic
A mystical mixture of love and fruit to concoct-
A pinch of this and that, nothing formally systematic.
This masterpiece was an untold legend that "rocked"
The socks off anyone and even rival the "Titanic"!
Her ritual was simple and deep rooted
As uncomplicated as a baby's grin.
"Easy as Pie" she mooted
And laughed while she hummed all the while.
Layering the rich sheets of goodness in a pan
From pie dough to peaches to butter and sugar
There was nothing in this world so simple or better than
My Aunt Grace's Peach Cobbler!
Categories:
cobbler, family, food, joy, love,
Form:
Narrative
Hot food for comfort in Winter’s the best; soups birthed and thickened with cream.
Steaming, thick chili and spice coupled with hot cobblers.
Sink into that…ummm…warm.
Categories:
cobbler, appreciation, cool, food, fruit,
Form:
Sijo
There once was a frog who wanted to wear shoes
out of the swamp he left and off to a cobbler's shop
with no time to lose. The grasshoppers and crickets
at him they did laugh, for why would a frog need shoes?
He sits in water on the top of a lily pad.
The frog kept hopping to the Cobbler as fast as he could
for he knows what he wants, shoes made of wood. These
rocks and stickers my feet they do hurt and with shoes
I can move cooler in the hot dirt. To the Cobbler's shop he
came and the sign said Closed and it began to rain.
Oh my feet, the frog did say, I'll have wait until the next
opening day.
Under the porch he slept that night and when morning came
he was filled with such delight. The door said open but how
would he get inside and then came a child who reached down
and grabbed him, and carried him in with pride.
Upon the counter he placed his frog and the ole Cobbler looked
and seen him and said he belongs at the pond. Oh please! the
frog exclaimed, I need some shoes for my feet, surely you can
understand me, some shoes would be so neat.
The Cobbler was met with such surprise when he understood
what the frog was saying by reading the look in his eyes.
Some shoes for you, my dear frog friend but no one will believe
me down at the Ole Inn.
A pair of clogs was placed upon him and the frog danced a dittle
at the Ole Inn, to pay back the Cobbler for being so sweet and so
that everyone, the old Cobbler they could believe, that a frog wore
shoes upon his feet. So if ever down by the creek and you see a frog
with wooden shoes upon his feet; Just laugh like the Cobbler, so full of life
a frog in clogs, Oh! what a site.
Categories:
cobbler, adventure, allusion, child, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Hot Apple Cobbler
Hot apple cobbler, crumbly sweet cinnamon atop,
Vanilla ice cream melting; not wasting a drop!
Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 11/13/15
Categories:
cobbler, food, memory, senses, word
Form:
Rhyme
Tim was nineteen years old, getting ready to go to university,
His parents had organised his accommodation
A house for students, roomy, very near to outskirts of city,
His friends shared all costs, ready for their future education.
Tim went through his things at home very carefully,
Took his favourite clothes, guitar, and some trinkets,
Excitedly, finished his packing, when almost voluntarily,
A yellowish old small paper fell into his homemade biscuits.
It was an old receipt from a cobbler dated years ago, February
1959 Eloff Street Johannesburg, close to the University,
Tim threw it into his case, keen to keep this, for it was history,
The signature was his grandfathers who died last year, Fre Hitty.
But Tim and his friends for now, only thinking of girls and party times,
Tim decided to go into the city, had to buy books and stationery,
The bottle store first, beers, a party this Saturday, amongst the vines.
However, next to the store Tim saw a shop which looked rather eyrie.
There was a sign, Cobbler, arrows pointing up a dark passage and stairs,
‘Cobbler’s Place’, written at top of receipt that he pulled out of his pocket,
Yes, goodness me, this place does still exist, an old man holding two pairs
Of shoes appeared, easily almost ninety, Tim handed him the docket.
The old man took it, slowly walked to the back through a narrow door,
After a good half an hour he returned with a smile on his weathered face,
Well, if you pop in tomorrow at the same time, your shoes will be ready,
Cost of living has gone up since my youth, you must now pay more than a penny.
No problem Sir replied Tim, but amazing is that the shoes are not ready,
All the way back from 1959, seeing that your shop and your work still exist,
Yet i still have to collect them tomorrow, may i have my grandfathers Freddy's
Shoes back please, no but the old man began to say, Sir Tim said, I do insist.
Apologies to all but i left out my last four most precious meaningful lines, i have now attached them.
Categories:
cobbler, school,
Form:
Rhyme
Cobbler fresh from the oven
A piping hot peach
Crumbled topping crisp to eat
Sprinkled with sugar
Such a tasty treat
Top with cream
Sweet!
Inspired by Laura McKenzie's "Sweet Treat" contest.
Categories:
cobbler, food
Form:
Epulaeryu
Never have I known myself so well.
Never have I ever been more glad I've been through hell.
Never have my shoes been so worn,
Or my heart been so torn.
But though my heart is heavy
My head is high.
My pace is steady!
Never have I ever been more ready.
Man, who cares about those shoes?
I could walk the streets in bare feet if I had to.
Categories:
cobbler, endurance, strength,
Form:
Lyric
Mom slaved over cobbler pies
for a dinner-time surprise!
Applauded, she sighs...
Categories:
cobbler, childhood, family, growing up,
Form:
The clouds haven't dropped any lower, nor the sun grown any dimmer. The birds still sing every morning, and the cat still muses atop the roof every evening. Everything is as it usually is, and perhaps that's what drives me crazy the most. How can everything out there be so serene, while I can barely grab a hold of my own thoughts? Or maybe nature fails to mourn, for in a way unknown to we, you still live on.
Maybe it is in the thoughts of your mystery, that you live on. The more we wonder about you, as a mystery, the closer we feel you. It is as if the mouth of the everhungry earth opens up, and allows you to whisper unto us. You are hard to forget .Perhaps this pain is the souvenir you left in us ,a skipped beat every minute, and a sharp tear before bedtime .As the flowers perched upon your grave blossom, fall and blossom again, so do your memories, making tides in the spaces of our hearts, only you could occupy. Farewell.
Elegy to my cobbler
Elliepoet
Categories:
cobbler, absence,
Form:
Elegy
He worked all day and he worked all night to get each shoe in line
people came and people went," how much, can you fix mine ?"
"take a number" he would say and then, he sewed in time..
The cobbler man was one of a kind, he never robbed them blind
Each day they would return to find a polished pair so nicely shined
Over by the shelf there sat a pair of ladies chocolate coated shoes
Size 9 fits all , the sale tag read, for you, only $9.99
He rang up the sale and with a smile he gave her a warning wad
"Never wear them in the rain, and oh ! "Happy Valentine's Day"
She wore them out that day 5 feet six inches tall and very proud.
but when the rain arrived with pelting drops of wet she cried
"Oh no !" The chocolate shoes turned velvet red, the color of
the devil's ked. But Cupid knew that Satan had no hand at love,
so he aimed and shot the target right, and a gentle man with
chocolate shoes arrived and said, "The cobbler right ?" She smiled
a nervous smile "Yes" I know, I paid him too, only 9.99 right" "Yes"
Then she knitted a frown and said," but your shoes are still brown"
"Ah yes, well, they got varathane. "
and suddenly her eyes began to shine, "would you be my Valentine?"
Categories:
cobbler, cute,
Form:
Narrative
to the Peach cobbler My Desert Favorite- -
YUm!!! peach cobbler, you inspire me to eat.
How I love the way you’re juicy and sweet,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Dreaming about the huge seed hard and tight.
Let me compare you to a dreamy prune?
You are more beamy, creamy and solid.
Deep sun heats the gleamy peaches of June,
And summertime has the seamy pholad.
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love your bright fuzzy peel, stems and eye.
Thinking of your steamy stems fills my days.
My love for you is the horrible high.
Now I must away with a pholad heart,
Remember I sweet parts words whilst we're apart YUm sweet tart.
12/27/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Categories:
cobbler, analogy, appreciation, food, how
Form:
Sonnet
Peaches hot and bubbly
under a sweet crust
baked on a cold winter day
oozing perfection
with whip cream to top ...
Serve it hot ...
Aaaah!
for Laura's Sweet Treat contest
Categories:
cobbler, foodsweet, sweet,
Form:
Epulaeryu
sits in one corner
with glue, thumb-tacks and hammer
savior of lost soles
Mr. Smith accepts any kind of old shoes
To fix, sew and make tight ones loose
Also makes loose ones tight
Swapping your left and right
At lowest cost, trims your nails and toes
Old shoe’s life lies over the heels of a cobbler, controller of some avid shoppers.
Jan 22, 2022 11.49am
Charlie Hai-Lim-Ku
Contest Judged: 3/11/2022 3:42:00 AM
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Place 2
Categories:
cobbler, jobs,
Form:
Monoku
unworthy of grace
I am more than I am
I am an unjust sinner
I'm a worldly beginner
but Jesus found faith
God believe in His Son
to set us free to freedom
save by freedoms grace
though we've fallen on our face
God has given us Grace an internal place
heaven
now I am a witness
a cobbler of saved American and Grace
2/17/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Categories:
cobbler, abortion, analogy, appreciation, engagement,
Form:
Shape