Best Foodmom Poems
I'm in the candy store, and man, i feel like a little boy,
Wanting to taste everything, but i should settle for some Almond Joy,
But who can focus on one, when there's so much,
My body gets weak, at the slightest of touch,
Of some Baby Ruth,
Man I'm telling y'all the truth,
I have an unstoppable candy addiction,
Airheads on my skin, surely causing some friction,
My favorite type of gum, is some sour Bubbalicious,
Butterfingers in my mouth, God, it taste so delicious,
Cherry Pop, Candy Cane, and some Candy Lipstick,
Jawbreakers, Red Hots, which ones do i pick,
Milk Duds, Mike & Ike, or how about some Twix,
Sweet candy everywhere, cant resist those Pixy Stix,
Jelly Belly, Jelly Nougat, i love those Jelly Beans,
Put my mom on the phone, get me a candy machine,
'Cause when i taste just one, it makes me want so much more,
Its like an orgy in my mouth, it makes me roll wild on the floor,
Sugar rushing all through my system,
My mom says enough, but heck, do i listen?
'Cause you cant stop me when i'm eating my treat,
Nothing can defeat me and those delectable heavenly sweets.
Form:
From the very moment my Mom taught me how to use a spoon,
From her mouth was uttered that old familiar tune:
"The kids in Asia are starving, now Bobby, clean your plate!"
Her admonition was final and left no tolerance for debate!
I tried to foist upon the hapless dog a helping of bony fish.
Even he would gag trying to swallow that vapid dish!
I'd toy with them and try to hide the tasteless peas.
I could barely abide them, even in bites of twos and threes!
Even tho' Mom concealed them with cheese, I had my doubts,
About a malodorous little veggie called Brussels sprouts!
I'd surreptitiously sneak them on to the plate of little brother,
Thereby, avoiding the reproof to clean my plate by my Mother!
There was the delicate matter of dealing with broccoli and beets,
Okra, spinach, turnips, hominy and other such disgusting eats.
In my feckless youth I thought such fare rather untoward,
But soon learned that to survive, you ate what was on the board!
When side-stepping along the chow line in the military service,
They often slopped mysterious stuff on my tray, making me nervous.
When I joined the service, I hoped never again to hear Mom's old cliche,
But, even those mean old sergeants screamed, "Private! Clean your tray!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Tied for No. 1 in PD's "Any Random Poem" Contest - July 2011
Growin' up on the Hoosier farm, Mom fixed very simple chuck.
(We'd never heard of pate de fois gras or crispy Peking duck!)
But never mind such sophisticated and fanciful cuisines.
I'd much prefer a steamin' bowl of Mom's cornbread 'n beans!
Ah! The aroma waftin' thro' the house, beans boilin' in the pot!
After a weary day of shuckin' corn, they'd surely hit the spot!
Now along with that, of course, you'd need some turnip greens,
And slabs of homemade butter to flavor the cornbread 'n beans!
Bubbly champagne or splendid wines never graced our board.
(Mom thought such things wicked, an abomination unto the Lord!)
She brewed iced tea, tho', to fill our mason jar canteens,
To wash down that delectable meal of cornbread 'n beans!
Now after such a splendid repast you must have dessert.
Cherry pie and homemade ice cream certainly wouldn't hurt!
I've enjoyed fancy fare at the Ritz and other elegant scenes,
But nothin' will ever compare to dinin' on cornbread 'n beans!
I've sampled fancy eats in London, Casablanca and Rome,
But I really prefer the simple fare that my Mom fixed at home!
I don't mean to disparage a great chef's cuisine by any means,
But my simple tastes are sated with savory cornbread 'n beans!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved
Honorable Mention in Food For Soul Contest May 2010