Best Gravy Poems
The sea was unusually wavy,
When a cook in the Royal Navy,
With a roll of the ship,
Accidentally slipped,
Inundating his captain with gravy.
Seniors in our town
gather at Hardy’s
on Wednesday mornings
over biscuits and gravy
to ruminate on life
as they’ve met it head on
as they’ve faced it with hope
as they’ve lived it with courage
as they forecast its future
in dread and fear
for their offspring.
They joke and laugh
as coffee flows downward
and embrace new promise
in the here and now, as tummy fills
with yesterday’s toasty comfort,
hot biscuits and gravy.
Mister Ride rode a gravy train
Train was full of pleasure and pain
He bribed the pleasure
Desperate measure
The pain pulled the chain in disdain
An old southern classic
momma use to cook
neck bones in a pot
with potatoes, onions, and gravy
called neck bone soup
Now it may sound a little crazy
It's the neck of some animal's baby
and these neck bones, if you eat them
will truly make you feel lazy
I don't know why I even tried
the neck bones and gravy
Could it be, I truly believe
this wonderful aroma
must have hypnotized me
Now I'm in love
with the sweet tender meat
and I have it every once in awhile
A bowl with some cornbread
is just so comforting
It will make your body smile
You can roast them in the oven
cook them on the grill
serve them with greens,
beans, mac and cheese,
or anything savory
but it's nothing like
A good old pot
of neck bones and gravy
veiled gravy
on one’s journey
bugbear
08.26.17
Now sits the redeye gravy in the pan
It certainly is not at all like jam
Mom made it years ago for her man
Fry some country ham, pour coffee bam
Never knew why it was called redeye
Then my grandson informed me just why
Men who had been out late had bleareye
Who looked like they had been drip-dry
I always thought that it was because
It had dark red color from drippings
In my home it got an applause
I thought that it was God's blessings
I learned my husband doesn't like it
My grandson doesn't like redeye gravy
When I make it only make a bit
Always redeye gravy left heavy
Today decided to place on grits
Feed to the cats see if they like it
Now cat is running around won't sit
I guess that caffeine gave them lift
Turtles drooping can be signs of elitist tantrums on borderline wave cones. Such colours. And often feedback is not fodder so therefore indigestible. Taming a 3foot bullock who is battling to grow horns is often not an easy task. Sometimes content to chew cud and at other times rampaging and knocking over thistle glasses who often look quite shocked. If one resembles an otter can one dive? Flotation is the way of saying get up. And getting up is often fantastically fun terminology that means that the years have created an engagement long overdue. No exact ritual can perform an exact result so play light, put right, and glide on harmonics in air. Or over tables. Onlookers are quite often seasick. Oh how rather remarkable then for therein lies much Flightly kingdoms of rain and wind gods. 190th element and a half turn of a key. Let it not be said that a sausage can not jet ski and a mouse in a tutu cannot balance on a promenade in a wind. Wild wind whipping willows. A 1foot humanoid said pied a puskin skot in a bright patterned blouse. And ba said the eastern maiden. Longitudinal latitudes create attitudes to store in neat ordered patterns. On skylines in sky castle yards and gates are often discovering a new way of laughing. Draping a cotton snood to correct ways. Standing on a 5 centimetre bridge on mountains over 500 feet. Tailoring a suit and fixing a boot with the flem from a laughing hedgehog. Dusk discovered discourse discounted draperies driving drinking derived design divine divided *** canopies *** resistance *** ha ha ha ha *** now attempt to land in orderly ways. *** valour *** ape eel pies ***
Form:
Well we certainly did it last night
When we went grocery shopping, there was a slight oversight
The dog will not eat his regular feast out of the bag under the sink
But he won't go thirsty, he will have plenty to drink
He's a good old boy, he will not complain
We're having Meatloaf, Mashed Potatoes topped with the dog's Gravy Train
The chunks seemed to soften as they were put on the stove to bring out the flavor
The family will find out if it is something a person would savor
The smell was quite odd, not bad, not good, just odd
Maybe this would be gourmet in some areas abroad
As the kids sit the table, with the plates all the trimmings
The secret item is reduced to simmering
Everyone is ready to hear about the brown chunky stuff on the potatoes, I begin to
explain
We forgot our usual Mc Cormick's instant, so we had to Fido's Gravy Train
Everyone at the table looked at one another
I hand the first plate to their mother
The next serving I passed to our daughter of age three
Then the next one came to me
I took one bite, the chunk shimmied down the throat
My stomach instantly began to bloat
The three year old took a bite and passed gas with the sound of a Whooping
Crane
Needless to say we gave Fido back his Gravy Train
I received a golden hello
But nothing of banking I know
On commodities, the future I bet
For large bonuses each year,to net
Too soon the 'bubble' has burst
Of course,everyone else,has come off worse
But I do not reap what I sow
They gave me parachute payout & pension to go
Global finances,crash into debt
Yet still I have no regrets ...(yet !)
For delectable gravy,
One creamed chicken can.
Add italian seasonings,
Lemon juice, Parsley,
and Hot Spice to taste.
Deliciously
Simple!
I am on a mission,
I am on a quest
To discover who’s Biscuits and Gravy
Taste the very best
I’ve dined on them in fine restaurants
Ate em sitt’n round a fire
OH! To taste the very best
Is my prime desire!
I’ve traveled to the east
Journeyed o’er the west
I have yet to discover who’s Biscuits and Gravy
Taste the very best
On a humble mission
A mission I carry with zest
But I must conclude my poem
And continue on my quest
If there’s one thing that my grandpa likes to eat its Chicken Egg Fu Young,
And for him he says it is a special treat if he should get some on his tongue.
That’s always where he aims it for but not where it always goes,
It seems it could end up anywhere from his head down to his toes.
Mom asked if he’d like some mushroom gravy put on the top of his food
Grandpa says that without it, his eggs are young but not completely fu-ed.
So she covered it with dark brown sauce and he gave his lips a smack
What happened next was kind of gross it was an Egg Fu Young attack.
He dropped his fork into the gravy and never tried to wipe it clean
He just grabbed it and his fingers ended up with gravy in between.
He dropped his knife into the pool then snatched it with his hand,
He looked like General Custer at his last brown gravy stand.
With gobs of gravy on his fingers he gave his hair a flick,
And the warm brown mushroom moose he wore helped his do to stick.
There are gravy marks across his face where the fork had randomly strayed,
His prowess at eating Egg Fu Young is now for all the world displayed.
And even though there is gravy everywhere on table, chair and floor,
My mother only smiles at him and asks, “Would you like some more?”
its the season you lick
and its quick
as you eat
the turkey meat
the tastes don't wastes
the food like a freak
as you mouth lingers
its
GRAvy white meat
AND FINGERS
Biscuits, gravy
sausage, eggs
salt & pepper
In mama’s kitchen I find
comfort food for my weary soul
a pleasant dinner surprise.
Simple were my tastes as a Hoosier country boy.
I'd heard of the fancy grub enjoyed by the hoi polloi,
But what set my youthful taste buds aquiver instead,
Was a helpin' of Mom's home-baked ham and gravy bread!
How I hated gettin' out of bed on a frosty winter's dawn,
Tryin' to awake, strugglin' to put my red flannels on.
Ah! But the aroma from the kitchen meant I was to be fed,
A servin' of Mom's fried pertaters and gravy bread!
On the Hoosier farm there were mornin' chores to be done,
Milkin' cows and sloppin' hogs, neither of which was fun.
But just thinkin' about breakfast and the treat that lay ahead,
Knowin' Mom was fryin' eggs and fixin' gravy bread!
In the service when the bugler blew a rousin' reveille,
I knew that powered milk and eggs in the mess awaited me!
Oh! How I yearned for Mom's zesty blackberry spread,
And a heapin' plate of bacon and scrumptious gravy bread!
I've traveled o'er this globe and sampled fancy fare,
But I've yet to find anything that will ever compare,
To risin' from my slumber and seein' the board spread,
With good old country fare, especially that tasty gravy bread!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)