Best Herring Poems | Poetry
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Herring Run at Cape Cod Canal
by kerttula, judith
Herring Gulls Revisited
by Radcliffe, Lily
A song for the herring gull
by Radcliffe, Lily
The ambiguous red herring
by Beam, John
View all new Herring Poems
The Best Herring Poems
Blink if the title drew your eyes in
See, the breadth of our human functionality
Thankfully, no evil kitty cats were killed because of it.
But, humanity continues its descent.
We live in a world of blasphemous sacrifices
And vicarious living
A world where identities are being kidnapped
By ill-defined pronouns and verbs from
Blogger’s egotistical delight
Yet, we crave to be free & think for ourselves.
We used to live in a world where “boys” never expressed their emotions
Yet, today, they are criticized for mansplaining
But, beg us to be a dictator in the sheets
Oh, the lust of hypocrisy’s tongue knows
Pre-emptive screams, the only “logical” sound
As critical loudmouths burn off pounds
Of social media dislikes
While they stare at their obese internal sadness
We live in a world
Where love is defined by what humanity’s online profile
Shows on their Relationship Status
Not the private memories
Not the personal moments
The less we share online, the less we care offline!
Everybody wants to know about everybody else
In order to forget about themselves
Another red herring in their chilled soup
They dance with spoonfuls of illegitimate intimacy
Spinning their self-declarations round robin
But, refuse to dip into change
We used to live in a world
Where it was a penny for their thoughts
Now it costs a life when the mind is spoken
So, I think to myself…
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2018
It was way after eight, at the Cat in the Hat.
The whole plaice was swimming, quoth the mackrel to sprat.
Though the milk was upset, she still stifled her cry,
So sorry i spilt you, mumbled poor humble pie.
My joints are the bees knees, squealed the honey roast ham,
And the apple agreed, she was better than spam.
Then red herring denied, he had something to hide,
Like a small Bombay duck, is a fish that is dried.
While tasty choux pastry, bared her soul to an eel,
The mock turtle announced, i believe i am veal.
And the ice cube was crushed, as she played fast and loose,
For an orange refused, to be part of fruit juice.
As warm rhubarb crumble, melts in custards embrace,
The sour gooseberry tart, wails she's taking my place
Then a voice in my head, spoke it's all fantasy.
Your table awaits you, said the waitress to me.
I glanced at the menu, it was all a la carte.
I said,bring me everything, but let's start with that tart.
Copyright © george seal | Year Posted 2017
I Was Heartily Welcomed… As I Sat At Your Table
By: Carol, Sara, Carolyn, Dane Anne, Moses, and Abel
Tim, Leon, John, Michael, Jim and Yoni
Deborah, Krista, Adeleke and Charlie
… James, The (Two) Ruben(s) and (The Quik-Composer) Raul
… and Many, Many More, I Love to Hear At Dinner-Call !
The PoetrySoup …
… It Has Member – Mushrooms
Chew and Chat Lunchrooms
Delectable Hors d'oeuvre
Every Ear-Full… Heard
Every Mouthful… Taste
Spoonful of Gourmet Grace
Voila’ Words, Don’t Waste
Simmer-Slow and Baste’
In Dug-up, Sweet Potatoes
Ripe Food for Thought Tomatoes
And Onions, That Will Make You Cry
Artichokes and Lemons that Squeeze – ‘til You Die
Garlic and Oregano Are Just Some Suggestions
And Here’s Some Mint… for Your Digestion
Parsley to Parley and Jive-Chives, Just Keep Stirring
But There’s No Clam Chowder, Shrimp, or Herring
A Dash of This… A Dash of That Seasoning
A Pinch of That and Sprinkle This Reasoning…
On The Side with the Mustard and Relish, so Fresh
Are the Cucumber-Contest and Radish Requests
And I Can’t Forgo the Tongue-in-Cheek Puns…
Your Laughter is Passed Around, like Hot-Buttered Buns !
… Poets … Are Proverbial Peas In The Pod
The Harvesters of Herbs-Heard, in The Garden of God
so... Salt and Pepper to Your Superb Style
Did You Say Cheese, Please ?... ( Full Mouth Smile !)
There’s Hot Chicken Broth, When You Are Cold
Everybody Knows… Its Good For The Soul
And All That’s On The Human Menu… It’s In There !
… Even A Mother’s … Tenderized Care
Like Campbell’s Brand… Its Umm… Umm… Good !
The Aspire – Asparagus, I Took… I Understood
So, PoetrySoup’s Cupboard is Never Bare
And There Ain’t No Bones, No Medium, Just Rare
And On The Star-Burner… Is The Savory Meat
So… Grab A Heartbeat-Bowl… and Bona Petit’…
Yes, Thank You, PoetrySoup
(You’re Up There with MoonBee’s FruitLoops !)
It Has Been A Pleasure Getting To Know You All
Thru Your Beautiful Expressions, Coming Straight
From Your Warm and Welcoming Hearts
God Bless You......
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
Releasing the rigid anchor line
Leaving the safety of land in our wake
Warm July zephyrs filling the sails
Resting even hands upon the tiller
As the bow broken waves drift slowly aft
Herring Gulls night songs hang as we pass
Violet clouds drifting in pinkish bronze dusk
Outlining the schooner adrift on the horizon
Dancing rhythm of the Highland Lighthouse
Gifts a moment of wine warmed lips fervor
Alone with the lights from distant headlands
Their essence illume the crests softly breaking
Gently swaying the craft in warm foamy brine
Faint guitar moments with my voice uninhibited
Evoking past memories of love on the Atlantic
Aspiration caught whole in the sail as we lay
A fearless embrace in the ethereal darkness
Of midnight on Massachusetts Bay sails…
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007
Even now I sit, slump, shuddering,
Stale walls echoing lamenting calls,
A nightmare flickered in the red herring of betrayal.
Stumbling hormones, skinless evil.
Blood red lips snarling, capturing someone else essence, bone dry.
Deliberately slithering up my calf, I grasped a cube of insanity as a last hope.
Dead eyes feared a toy box, a fragmented sense
clung to my only protection, my untouched hell.
Blood soaked, dripping sweat, saturated fear I escaped...
Demons hell-bent on demise. Curiosity craved,
crushed my soul into submission,
But it's just a box...
Teeth exposed, chattered, blindly shoved fingers in to catch my tongue,
the taste of soured flesh.
A vibrating voice crackled static pain, shivered in pleasure.
Bargaining, a blissful retreat, whilst exposing incompetence, irrational?
Go to hell.
Pounded at death's door, let me in...
Warned the worm of the vulture, coming to devour its soul.
Something didn't fit, the sacrifice seeping into the floor smelt half human.
Realisation, cold, the door creaked, locked,
grinning gruesomely, the veins pulsing along a sadistic mind,
Quaking, i flinched around to a lubricated nightmare,
clenching my muscles, the hiss of hell's rapture...
A prison shook, a prisoner shrieked,
Sanity split like perfect fission, slime coated his
Come, to daddy.
Copyright © Holly King | Year Posted 2010
A RACE TO DE-BONE FISH:
A CONVENT FOR SHELL FISH:
A MEMBER OF THE UNDER SEA MAFIA:
A PROMISCUOUS SHRIMP:
A MUSICAL RED SNAPPER:
A COMPASSIONATE FISH:
A LAW ENFORCEMENT FISH:
For Yasmin's Footle Fun Contest
Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2013
As I watched,
like a lion with its prey
the wave growled and snarled
while crouching, preparing to pounce.
Rushing up the sloping shingle beach,
it reached out and dragged pebbles
down into its lair.
the rasping raking of the beach tumbling
pell-mell and headlong into the sea
stones spewed out as leftovers
in the next cold wave of grey water,
breaking in trails of white foam
along the coastline.
the wind-blown spray
and the black clouds over grey water
threatening and evil;
a wave rose, a hooded cobra
striking the rocks of the breakwater
before devouring them.
to the plaintive cries of
a young herring gull high above the sea,
blown sideways by the gale.
full twenty feet from the shore
the black-clad cormorant sat securely smug
on a post, the predator’s perch.
A swift, triumphant swoop filled his beak with supper
and I watched as he flew away.
Copyright © Elisabeth Sheaffer | Year Posted 2013
Wafting in the air,sweet scent of your soul,
Like a garden of lilac shrub and sweet pea;
Exuding my path, deodorant of your whole,
Like the path of African civet cat or hill
Of scent-born-beetles. You are not afar,
Your beacon,your sweet aroma is distinct;
Yours is not red-herring,but a sun’s compass;
Ageless trajectory that never misleads .
I am close,nearer than phalanges to metacarpus;
The scent of your soul,beam of light to my sight,
The scent of your soul,eternal buoy in my life ocean;
You are the mouth, I am the hand; in sun and in shade,
Does hand miss its journey to the mouth? Does hen
Miss its path to the brood?When horse comes to stable,
It does not need the bridle ; often in hide and seek,
Romeo knows where Juliet is. The scent of your soul,
Like the moon in the sky,which hand can shroud?
The scent of your soul, effulgence of the sun,
Which curtain can veil?When thunder sparks,
Who can extinguish its light with his breath?
Doubt not, delay not, deter not,no fissure;
Like onion’s flesh we are bound;like hunchback
Glued to the back we are locked;you wait not in vain,
Because of the scent of your soul,we shall cut cake.
Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2014
I leave my home in Trinidad
And I come to live in America
And now I working at Kmart
Whole day at a cash register
But I do have a lot of problems
Every time I get hungry to eat
all it has is a bunch of junk food
Or bread with some artificial meat
So I decide to take all my money
And invested it in a food van
Is about time I introduce to America
The tasty cooking of we Trinidadian
And I though for the first few days
That business will be real slow
Boy, but I was so wrong
now I see people line up for so
So I open up with trini breakfast
Smoke herring with tomato and roti
Baggi, Pumpkin, baigan and aloo
Fried bodi ,doubles and fever grass tea
It’s the first time they tasting Doubles
The chutney burning some of them nose
One guy look like he from Russia
Drop some curry channa on his cloths
I get all the recipes from my brother
“naz cuisine” The best food in Trinidad’
Some people start complimenting
Saying, it’s the best they ever had
A white man faced turns red
Eating the double with plenty pepper
But he says how he likes it
It has a very nice flavor
And For lunch I roll out the big guns
All different kind of talkari
Goat, duck chicken and fish
Bake and shark, bush up shut and dhalpurrie
Two Puerto Rican girls
One looks like Mariah Carey
They order dhal, rice, and goat meat
Saying how they love the curry
And every body line up
They love the curry real bad
And every body talking about the curry
the curry man from Trinidad
From my stove comes hot roti
Tomato choka and fry plantain
Since morning people line up
Waiting for the Trinidad cooking
And now is evening everything sells out
I didn’t even keep one roti for me
And now I feel real hungry
So I guess I will buy a bucket of KFC
Copyright © kasim ishmael | Year Posted 2013
SERGEI'S HOT DATE AT THE RESTAURANT -
FEATURING NICOLE KIDMAN
I am Aleksandr Orlov,
and I'm not very happy,
Sergei is on a hot date -
and he's also very chatty!
He's gone a very posh
restaurant - and he's
acting like a human,
And I'm very upset - he's
dating Nicole Kidman!
I will have to gatecrash,
and make my feelings
I can't have Sergei turning
normal - he's venturing
into the unknown!
But I have set up meerkat
spy camera - and I'm
watching his furry maggot,
But I can't have Sergei
turning into - a slippery
I pop up at the restaurant,
where Nicole and Sergei
Who is Sergei trying to
kid? Will I doff my hat?
I have to give him an
option - make him choose
'But, if he chooses Nicole
Kidman - I make sure he
knows his fate!'
Nicole is after Sergei's
Sergei always plays on,
But who will Sergei choose
to be with? That is the
Sergei sits at the table - he
doesn't know what to do -
He seems to relish the fact -
but he acts like he's in a
I'll have a prawn cocktail -
and that is just a start,
If I have the rollmop
herring - it might just make
Sergei is drinking wine -
and being rather silly,
But why does he wear a
posh napkin - I think he's
Then we have the main
course - some very tasty
But giving Sergei a finger
bowl - was a big mistake.
Now Sergei has the skittle
belly - and he's on a very
Will Nicole Kidman pinch
his furry face - or will
Aleksandr win his mate?
Sergei plucks up the courage
to play a crafty trick,
He won't allow Aleksandr to
touch his spotted dick!!!!
Sergei sits and prunes his
fur - and Aleksandr is upset.
Nicole Kidman tells Sergei:
"You are my furry pet!!"
They now have reached a
crisis - over who will pay the
While Nicole Kidman goes
to the loo - she's gone to take
While Nicole Kidman pleads
with Sergei: "Please come
home with me?"
Sergei says: "I'm so confused
and I need a wee!"
So, who will win Sergei's
heart, - and enjoy a new hot
Please do vote on the meerkat
phone - before it is too late!
So Aleksandr makes eyes
at Nicole Kidman - and he
try's to be professional;
'Glaring as he says to Sergei;
'what you are doing is so
So, Nicole Kidman walks
away in tears - as Sergei
chooses his mate.
I think Nicole was lovely -
nice than Aleksandr, his
jealous' new date!!!!
Sitting at the table, and
pruning each other's
Sergei tried to go straight -
but it wasn't all that simple!
But now they leave the
restaurant and they both
do feel a thrill;
'Walking "claw in claw" -
not acting so professional!!!!'
Will Sergei get another
chance - as Aleksandr will
make him choose,
Or will poor little Sergei
not see sense - and act like
a sorry little "son-of-a-
Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2016
Freddie a fury to the red herring dish
Felix zeroed in on the waft of the fish
Freddie the dog winked at Felix
The cat's eyes were double helix
They toggled a shark at the Barth's Park Office
FREDDIE AND FELIX/Limerick Copyright© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 19 November 2014
Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014
Sardines on the Sand
Two Sardines danced hand in hand
At their wedding upon the sand
As a Herring played the violin.
A portly porpoise clothed in grey
Greeted guests from far away.
A pair of Cod beheld the scene,
The bride was dressed in seaweed green
And an Octopus sang a gliforal song
As the assembly wept into oyster shells,
While an elderly Crab played whale bone bells.
A gumley Anchovy bore the ring
As the Vicar asked the choir to sing.
Then a choir of Kipper sang on the strand,
And throngs of Mullet from far and wide
Danced by that strong mantigious tide.
Then there came a flumifinous roar
As the tide surged upon that shore
And all the party were swept away.
All on that bright framtitious day.
For the contest 'In the Style of my Favourite Poet.
Sponsored by The Seeker
Copyright © Barry Stebbings | Year Posted 2016
I believe prose is the devil,
The page is too large with detailed explanation.
A herring that is hungry for details and plot lines.
A parasite that taunts me.
I am in love with the poem,
The page is concise with word paint.
A butterfly kiss on a lilac desiring immediate nectar.
A lover that teases me.
For the verse is easier quest
For the moment bound
the present beloved
the feeling liver.
The solemn sinner.
I believe prose is the worthy prince,
The one with the page and the avid reader.
A well educated monarch on a lofty peak.
A soon king that rejects me.
I am in love with the unattainable,
The poem's black heart.
An ignorant fool who understands
A line left open.
For freedom is heartbreak
For the doomed spirit
the critically judged
the cursed be-er
The chosen loner
Copyright © Autumn Ehrhardt | Year Posted 2010
Distant shores tumble over the rocks
Resting among orange lichen and salt grass
Warmed by the sun
Herring gulls circle, searching for food
Uneven rocks slow my path to shelter
Where comfort waits for me
Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2012
Hear the song of humpback whales
Gathering in Hawaiian waters,
Gathering for Cetacean opera,
Male exclusive grand recital;
On the brink of epic journey
To Alaska’s icy waters.
Off the West coast of Alaska
Shoals of herring feed off plankton.
Humpbacks fresh from far Hawaii
Gather at their leader’s signal.
Thus begins the “A-team’s” mission,
Brilliant modus operandi.
Giants of the Arctic ocean,
Diving ever deeper, deeper.
Round and round the bubbles spiral
To the surface of the ocean.
Net of bubbles in a circle
Traps the shoal of startled herring.
Mouths a-gaping, rise together,
Burst the surface, prey engulfing.
What a maelstrom – whales and herring;
Seagulls join the feeding frenzy,
Till, at last, all satiated,
Calm returns to freezing waters.
Copyright © Mike Jones | Year Posted 2014
Said a Cod to a wise old Eel,
I would like to know how you feel?
Though people snack on dips,
Lots more eat fish and chips.
They say it has great meal appeal!
Said the Eel to the wise old Cod,
I find that unusually odd.
I've never had to worry,
As so many eat curry.
Very few are after my bod!
Just then a worldly old Squid,
Doing what Squids always did.
Went swimming slowly on by.
Said he "Me, they'll never fry"
"They'll only eat me jellied!"
Next came a Lobster and Blue Crab.
Followed by a Flounder and Dab.
They agreed with the old Cod,
A fish with a succulent 'bod'
Always ends up on a slab!
Then a Shrimp, Whelk and a Mussel.
All went by in a hustle.
Then the Winkle with the Clam,
Who said "I'd better scram!"
"Cos I give chowder its muscle!
Following next came the Herring,
In a disguise he was wearing.
For he was truly afraid,
That the batter being made,
Was for him. His instinct unerring!
Then both a large and small-mouthed Bass,
And a lone, solitary Wrasse.
Not to forget the Scallop,
Going by at a gallop.
All getting away en masse!
Next Mackerel, Haddock and Plaice.
Not one with a smile on its face.
The handsome Halibut too,
Was looking glum and blue,
Which went as well for the Dace!
Now to all fish its crystal clear.
Most of them have plenty to fear.
Be they skinned, fried and eaten
With bread - White, Brown or Wheaten,
Or soaked and battered in beer!
Rhymer. December 6th, 2016.
Copyright © Denis Barter | Year Posted 2016
A lady on high street with ah tight pants
And all the men turn and watching she
Well I pretend I didn’t notice
But in the corner of my eyes I look to see
Then I went down by the hospital
Stop and drink an apple J
Was to full to eat any doubles
Because I was by naz cuisine today
Had smoke herring with tomato
With two hot sada roti
And some nice mango kuchela
With a hot cup of coffee
Then I walk up Harris promenade
Sit on a bench by the engine
It was under a big tree
So I just sit in the shade relaxing
San Fernando really has nice girls
So much passing in front of me
I tell a red Spanish girl good afternoon
She said “mind your business you stupidly”
Trinidad girls is very nice and friendly
But it has a few with bad attitude all about
Some girls talk sweet like honey
And some have a pepper in their mouth
Well I going to the place I learn tailoring
By “ram mohess “on the lord street
It’s been many years I haven’t seen them
So I carrying some beer and KFC to eat
Many don’t know I am a tailor
I can make suits, dresses and everything
And Use to designs at “images sewing factory“
Own by my good friend “SHIVA GOBIN “
And I cannot forget” Mr. Lopez”
Another tailoring shop down the coffee
He who give me my job letters
To get visa at the America embassy
All these people has really help me
And I am grateful for what I’ve learn
And they will be in my memory
Although our roads in life has turn
Then I went down by the sea wharf
They do catch big fishes down there
Then pass by San Fernando market
Ands stop In a rum shop to drink a beer
Jump in a taxi to ste Madeleine
See my nephew riad in the backseat
He said, man it’s to early to go home
Let’s go to a bar on high street
Lites and roger was by the library corner
So four of us went in the bar to lime
Then girlfriend text to say she love me
Enjoy my vacation, have a great time
Copyright © kasim ishmael | Year Posted 2013
Fished all day not a red herring on the line but I got a basketful of kipper Hunted all day not a fox one with a red herring on the line a shark ate my sandwich today He got away with the halibut a shark ate him today for the halibut He did not get away
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
Well I remember yon fine day
down by the deep Loch Ness.
I cast my fly so far away
which soon caused me distress.
Instead of hooking trout out there
on mud banks thick and messy.
Stepped through flat fish floundering where
I had to battle Nessie.
I wrestled her as you have guessed
though that was not my plan.
I only wished for herring dressed
not pilchards from a can.
It took a while to free the line
that Nessie had entangled.
I found my rod, my tackle, twine
hopelessly were mangled.
She gave a roll of victory
and left at a great rate.
Then I saw looking full at me
her own enormous mate.
Glad to say they went their way
and left me on the bank.
Now each day I sit and pray
and wonder who to thank.
Copyright © Keith Logan | Year Posted 2016
the elderly man's made a pass at her
i witnessed the saddest thing I've ever seen
in a long time
i hope it's not a premonition
my life playing out before my eyes
there's a couple sitting across each other
eating breakfast at a jack-n-box
another normal day
before going further
no it's not crack-in-the-box,
like how she used to call it
okay let me continue
so there's this couple
and the reason
i'm dwelling on this
the elderly Japanese man had to be near eighty
and the women, Hawaiian-mix, around five years younger
and no connie's not from Hawaii
but then again that might be a red herring
so no one can accuse connie of being a sneak
anyway the elderly man eating his breakfast
pauses, looks over and sees his sunshine across the restaurant
he goes over, nice
now i'm watching intently
at my romeo , my hero
he can barely walk, gimping along
however i do admit he had nice thick white hair
he ask if he can join her
so harmless, i thought
she said candidly, no i'll be alright
those were her exact words
no remorse for his feelings, nothing
i kept watching ... this was good
the human emotion
the tears in his eyes
the blood draining from his face
he cleared his throat
went to refill his drink
and out of her presence he cried deeper
now keep in my i watching
the human emotion
the tears running down alongside his cheeks
a picture, a kaleidoscope of dejection
i saw flashbacks of my own, too
two near eighty years sharing the same emotion
as a youngster would
i felt his pain, so sad
he had just finished eating
and went back to get another breakfast platter
to curb, i guess, his depression, shake off the sadness
the women she kept looking towards me
i couldn't begin to think what was going through
then i began to think
the stretches of gods reach
why did he allow me to witness his message today
Copyright © connie pachecho | Year Posted 2017
Grey nimbus in sky
Ominous feel, rocky cove
Walking shingled shore
Shiny stones, relentless sea
Elements no friend
Merciless waves, tidal swell
Noisy Herring Gull.
Walk wet empty cove
Steep granite rock, seabirds' roost
Precious time alone.
Copyright © Delice Arleen Skelly | Year Posted 2015
The cliff tops were bare, rocks lay scattered across the beach, the nearing harbor holding all in its silence. Along the bay the ripple of a kayak hovered on a waters edge. All was quiet, or so it seemed.
Overhead clouds rolled and arched a landscape in blue, held by a shimmering backlight in grey-orange hues. Up there, amongst the rocks, movement issued the break of day. Columns of fledged juveniles headed out to the shore on surrogate wings so new in all their mottled grey glory. Clumsy at first, innocent of death, they practiced their art.
Many years ago, decades ago, before our monopolized greed, these wings could learn their craft on broken hills and rock face to a sanded shore now desimated by poisoned or starved waters. How the human spirit lives on.
Year by year, in urban habitat, overwhelmed by our desire to regenerate, encrypted in a culling desire, no co-existence, just hate, a lack of education, a provision of landscape in need, forcing extinction to deaths lonely door again and again.
Today I watched the bonded pairs high up on the roof tops, a tireless nurture, their weakened bodies, their empathic care. I look down through the alleyways, broken wings fall or on discarded earth or through my town, hiding in corners. We are the invaders, not them.
Copyright © Lily Radcliffe | Year Posted 2015
Don’t worry about being thinner
Get yourself off down the pub
Then go home to a good British dinner,
Of British traditional grub
Delicious roast beef of old England
Served up with a thick Yorkshire pud
With roast spuds and cabbage and carrots
Plus gravy in which the spoon stood
What’s wrong with a good stew and dumplings?
Made with some prime neck of lamb
Or a thick slice of home boiled bacon
Instead of that wafer thin ham
Fried eggs and bacon for breakfast
A steak that’s surrounded with chips
Some mushrooms and beans or tomatoes
Can I hear you smacking your lips?
Give me pork chops with a kidney
A helping of wild rabbit pie
With carrots and peas and thick pastry
For which old Auntie Bessie would die
Kippers, smoked haddock or winkles
Mussels or soft herring roe
Jellied eels, tripe or pigs liver
I think I might give it a go
A thick slice of cheddar is pleasant
Coated with pickle of course
Or maybe a plump well hung Pheasant
Plastered with cranberry sauce
Blackberry and apple crumble
A dollop of cream on the plate
This is making my tummy rumble
Give me some quick I can't wait
A big lump of home made bread pudding
Or maybe a nice spotted dick
Served up with syrup or custard
Providing the custard is thick
A stuffed Sheep’s heart makes a good dinner
Or a nice deep-fried black pudding ring
On a slice of fried bread, did you hear what I said?
This is food that is fit for a king
When you’ve feasted on cabbage or brussels
Don’t ever consider you’ve sinned
Just be certain your close friends and family
Are seated some distance up wind
A plateful of boiled new potatoes
Dashed with salt taste exceedingly nice
If you give them a try will you no longer buy
Bean shoots or Chinese fried rice
Avoid all these kebabs and curries
They look like they’ve been eaten before
You’ll be finding them most Sunday mornings
On the pavement outside your front door
Don’t listen to these dieticians
Between themselves they can’t agree
Nobody mentioned cholesterol
Until nineteen seventy three
Make sure all your dinners are British
Now you know the foods that I mean
We never defeated old Hitler
Eating Pasta or Nuevo Cuisine
Copyright © roy may | Year Posted 2011
Follow me down
To the cold oceans playground
Where children dance and frolic
At building sandcastle dreams
That the sea will sluice away
Beginning its concerto
From the driftwood surfing waves
Over the metronome melody
Of the gilded Herring Gull
And the rhythmic percussion
From the smoothed rolling pebbles
The symphony consumes
Softly hanging in the Atlantic winds
Just cresting over the song of dawn
The strings of the Willow reverberating
In concert with the viola of first light…
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2008
Light dims except in the flames of the ring of fire.
Stars shine brighter still
Hopes seem possible
Ease takes over and washes away the cares of the past week.
Swiftly down the current to the sea
Fire pit by swift creek warm our hearts, bond our family tightly tonight
Forever, eternally bound.
Silhouttes appear against the moonbeams
Herring, mallard pair, chimney swift
Splash....Splash!! Who? what??
Homeward bound leave the night creatures to their domain.
Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2011