Best Gateau Poems
Slowly
ever so slowly
overcome with emotion
building up ever so effortlessly
inside
passions burning ever so swiftly
reside
deep in my heart
sweet smells of your luscious gateau
roam free
a slight breeze blows in your hazel hair
enhancing your essence
enticing me
slowly
ever so slowly
I wrap my arms around your
aphrodite-esque waist
squeezing ever so slightly
whispering
"love me"
In the middle of the night,
When the moon shines bright,
A creature stirs with a terrible bite,
And his name is Spoonfang.
This vampire with a spoony face,
Has developed quite the taste,
For creatures of the pudding race,
Has the greedy Spoonfang.
So when the stars through dark clouds peek,
Into the kitchen he will creep,
And a tasty snack he’ll sneak,
Will the crafty Spoonfang.
Mousse and trifle, cake of cheese,
Ice-cream left in the deep freeze,
He’s had a bite of each of these,
Has the naughty Spoonfang.
But tonight he’s set his eyes,
Not on mother’s tasty pies,
But on Gran’s birthday surprise,
A gateau all for Spoonfang.
And so he creeps along the floor,
Tip-toes to the kitchen door,
But someone else is there before,
The bold and daring Spoonfang.
Count Spatula! The greatest Pudding Vampire of them all!
Both the vampires get a fright,
Their screams echo through the night,
And someone switches on the light,
On Spatula and Spoonfang.
Mother tuts and shakes her head,
Sends son and father back to bed,
Neither vampire has been fed,
Not Spatula nor Spoonfang.
Maybe there’s a little Pudding vampire in all of us!
Rhythmic creaks and gentle squeaks
from the withered old wooden rocking chair
fill the sweltering late summer afternoon air
a peaceful breeze blows across his tepid brow
the old man begins to weep
as he thinks of his wife inside
Drips and drops and a little splash
fall down into the half-full sink
a lemon scent mixed with her lilac essence
warm the cozy spotless kitchen
The old woman plates coffee gateau
smiles and sits next to him
offering a taste of her treat
Rich creamy chocolate and a hint of hazelnut
he savors every bite of her love
He smiles and whispers
how lucky he is to have her
Chubs is gravely flat.
We remove our hats.
Her wheel deflated him—
Chubs, my cuddly cat.
Flounder is lying flat,
ambling on his back.
Her croutons choked him—
Flounder, my friendly catfish.
Gopher is resting back-flat,
striking position for naps.
Her diabolical chocolate gateau
snuffed him out almost.
Gopher rose once again,
my mangy mutt, back-to-life.
Ma decried; she'd die
in a reindeer stampede
A palette of the mind,
Crayola colors now entwine
and symmetry thus unwinds
life is never color-blind.
Dreaming seas of abstract bliss,
waves of chromatic kinesis;
I would be, oh so remiss,
if inspiration, I dismissed.
As I awaken and grab a brush,
muse I never dare to hush,
to paint and easel, I do rush;
and allow her joys to gush.
Such elation she bestows,
as pigmentation begins to flow,
as if she’s dining on gateau,
dream-images emboldened glow.
Pour your heart out, let it flow.
Like a river's torrent, let it go.
On your bare arms let it glow.
Let its rhythmic pulse show,
that you really, truly, deeply can bestow
pure, stark, emboldened emotions all aglow.
With heart exposed, a sleeve gateau.
Slowly
ever so slowly
overcome with emotion
building up ever so quickly
inside
passions burning ever so quickly
reside
deep in my heart
sweet smells of your luscious gateau
roam free
a slight breeze blows in your hazel hair
enhancing your essence
enticing me
slowly
ever so slowly
I wrap my arms around your
aphrodite-esque waist
squeezing ever so slightly
whispering
"Make love to me"
The work I did was playing with the angels
We read and painted, dressed up for Halloween as rangers
The Universe so close from dry, paper mache
With older kids we even wrote an Etheree
The work I did was traveling to Europe
With twenty of my students and an antelope
We colored windows facing the lights of Paris
and even opened a brasserie "Gateau de Bliss"
So, Carolyn, you made me smile opening this album
When asking "Where the Wild Things Are? " Ka-boom!
Again it's "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs"
...but empty are long gone Elementary School halls...
www.scripca.com
A place of goodbyes is the earth
Each generation we let go
Heaven_ place of hellos and mirth
Whitey went_ will there be rebirth
Or with animals only end though
A place of goodbyes is the earth
Sadness overwhelmed she had worth
Was good ratter now receiving gateau
Heaven_ place of hellos and mirth
While here on this earth, let me unearth
And expand on my good traits, let grow
A place of goodbyes is the earth
I'll leave_ take spiritual rebirth
Put on my countenance's warm glow
Heaven_ place of hellos and mirth
All will leave in flight that is dearth
Now new body on me bestow
A place of goodbyes is the earth
Heaven place of hellos and mirth
Click on "About This Poem"
BAKED ALASKA GRINNED THROUGH THE SNOWY WINDOW,
CREPE-SUZETTE NICELY SAT ITSELF ON A FANCY PLATE BELOW,
NEW YORK CHEESECAKE WAS FIT AND STRAIGHT FROM QUEENS,
STICKY TOFFEE PUDDING CLUNG ITSELF WHATEVER THAT MEANS.
THE LADY CHEF WITH THE COOKING CAP WRESTLED WITH SPUN SUGAR,
WHICH WRAPPED ITSELF AROUND HER GENEROUS BOSOM THUS FAR;
ORANGE PUDDING WAS SET IN ITS WAYS, GELATINE HAD GOOD DAYS,
STRAWBERRY GATEAU EASED ITS WAY BETWEEN LIPS MOST WAYS.
IT WAS CLOSED ON A SUNDAE BUT OPEN AGAIN ON MONDAY,
YOU COULD SEE THE LADY WITH THE CAP CHASING PANCAKES AWAY,
THE CREAM IS BETTER HERE - NONE OF THAT SLOPPY THIN STUFF,
YOU KNEW AFTER ALL THE 'SLIP AND SLIDE' - YOU'D HAD ENOUGH.
CHOCOLATE RAN DOWN THE SIDE OF FRUIT, STAND AND STARE,
THE COATING WAS ENOUGH - I'VE ALWAYS LIKED A NICE PEAR.
Cakes & Ale
I woke up in a bakery they do start early, the aroma of bread
is wonderful, they were also making cakes, whipping creams.
Napoleon cakes and Danish pastry, black forest gateau and other
pastries I have as a child looking through the windows of a bakery
shops admired. Too much, I walked outside and lit a ***, inhaled
deeply and the tobacco soothed my mind, giving me a feeling of
fullness. It was only then I remembered I have diabetes, a heart
problem and have not smoked for 15 years. Has it been worth it
this forgoing of the good thing in life; I’m not sure, it may extend
my life for a few more years of pain and misery, will I die regretting
the cakes I didn’t eat and the fags I didn’t smoke?
A Date of Misfortune
The bus was late it was raining when she alighted…
my temper was moody, since it was late the kitchen
at the café was closed, but they still had slices of
“black forest gateau,” we had that with white wine
because the waiter refused to serve red wine with
a gateau; she drank the whole bottle and got giggly.
Going to my place, we stopped an outdoor kiosk
selling hotdogs, I ate two with mustard on, since she
disappeared throwing up in the back of the stall.
She refused to come home with me I walked her to
the bus station where she caught the last one home
to her parents.
A Mixed Memory
When mother made gateau for someone’s birthdays
I beat the cream using a steel whisker. Boring work
before the cream thickened and could be spread on
the cake, but it was worth it, as I got to lick bowl.
I thought of this as a tempest whipped the sea into
a froth. In the galley I had a mix-master and could
whisk up cream in no time, only I didn’t have the real
stuff , had to use condensed milk but I didn’t feel
inclined to lick its residue. The tempest blew into
storm, the ship was jumping about like an untrained
colt refusing to have a rider on its back. Life boats
smashed, ship railings too we only hoped she could
ride out the storm. In Hamburg I walked ashore and
ate a piece of Black Forest Gateau, awe-inspiring.
And to sit in a coffee shop that didn’t throw me off
my chair like demented colt.
It's the 3rd of the month
An excellently important day
5 decades or so ago,
My parents made a little 'roll in the hay'
Tonight, I'm spoiling myself
Going out for dinner el solo
Down to my favourite local Bistro
For Salmon Wellington, Cab Sav and Gateau
Made sure I phoned ahead,
with 3 weeks to go
Booked a delicious pescatarian meal
And a table outside, on the patio
I arrived with a grin
And was shown to a shabby table inside
Served Beef Wellington, Sav Blanc,
And for dessert, a Mince Pie!
Why? What? How could this be?
I immediately called for the Chef
Oh Lanser, how could you get this so wrong
Have you recently gone stone deaf?
No! He said, in his monotone
And pulled from his pocket an email
You sent us this note just yesterday
Updating your culinary detail
But it wasn't... I didn't.... Who could it have been?
To know that I'd definitely be here
Someone who would sabotage my effulgent glory
And rob me of my cheer?
Then it dawned on me
Who sabotaged my favourite night
It was my horrible ex-wife
She's darn clever, evil and so full of spite
hors d'oeuvre norwegienne
bisques de normandy
canetons d'aylesbury
pudding au yorkshire
gateau foret noir
vin champagne
Bonn(sic) !