Best Muffin Poems
The Muffin and the Cupcake
Little miss muffin was resting one day
When a cute little cupcake came looking her way
The gaze he held, was saying one thing
I'm coming over to pull apron string
She blushed an blustered and turned all coy
But couldn’t resist the touch of the boy
Was this the mix she had waited for
Since she had sprung from the old oven door
He ambled over, his eye on her crest
He touched her side to physically test
He needed to see she was not a mirage
For he was battered by beauties barrage
He felt the warmth that swelled from her heart
And swore that day that they’d never part
He said, “My darling, with me will you run
I’ll take you a ride and we will have fun
For you are my muffin and I’m your cupcake
And nothing will sunder the bond that we make”
She took, his word, their lips came to meet
Was there ever before, kisses tasting so sweet
The last I heard, they had run away
And merrily danced in their love so they say
So muffin or cupcake, next time you eat
You may have destroyed, but their love not defeat.
Muffin Talk
We muffins are so filling
We eat and eat and lose no weight
Bakeries watch their fat stuffing
We muffins are so filling
To make the world a tasty place
We’re full, then become empty plates
We muffins are so filling
We eat and eat and lose no weight
Created on 9/24/14 for One New Triolet - Poetry Contest
Blueberry muffin.
Sweet things embedded in cake.
What a breakfast treat!
Blueberry season is near.
Bring plenty of muffins here.
Honey glazed muffins,
Fresh from the oven,
Turkey with stuffins,
Baked w/tender lovin'.
She watched him hide his pretty wares,
When the Easter Bunny came.
And as the children ran in pairs,
She joined into the game.
Their short legs were longer than
The short ones that she wore.
For each egg going in their pans,
She found a dozen more.
We tried to take them from her and
She'd look at us and grin.
Her mouth was faster than our hands
As another egg went in.
I've had dogs that were more faithful
And superior in their size,
But at being glad and gleeful,
Happy Muffin won the prize.
Grandchildren love to hear the story
Of little Muffin and the eggs
And of how God took her up to Glory
On her little Dachshund legs.
I’d like you to meet Muffin Man
And just so you all understand
His name comes from munchin’
And we ain’t talking luncheon
The women all say he sure can
Do you have an Achilles heel?
Mine is a blueberry muffin.
Always makes my taste buds squeal,
When it comes fresh from the oven.
Served up warm with a cup of tea,
A reason to get out of bed.
No coffee or eggs, not for me,
Now ready for the day ahead.
Often I cheat, have one more please,
And feel I’m as big as a whale.
My sweet tooth once more to appease,
‘Till I get on the bathroom scale!
Today I tried on some pants,
the zippers shouted, "I cant's!"
So I sucked in my gut,
bellybutton's a rut...
Damn, fill the hole with some plants!
it is extreme heat
in a tight spot
that makes the muffin rise
to show its purpose
to give delight
to be useful to others
then why is it
that when we feel the heat
and when we are in a tight spot
we show our weakness
we give complaints
and we become useless to others?
it is perchance
that the wisdom of the muffin
that rises to the occasion
that stands up to be counted
trumps our own?
The story begins
Once upon a time
with muffin man
His father
worked him
Knead him
as a son
Waving him goodbye
Smiling all happy
Leaving the bakers
After getting
his icing done
To make a new start
Dancing skipping
Entering a wooded area
Singing with glee
All of a sudden
Coming shooting
out of the trees
In a flash
of light
A witch
On her broomstick
Piercing through the center
Of poor little
muffin man
he yelled
for help
Roaring in pain
No one heard
muffin's cry
Slowly the stinking
Old witch
Opened her fowl
smelling mouth
Yellowing black teeth
Inching closer
Holding his breath
He smelled doom
In the face
Of ugliness
As he prayed
She sank her teeth
Deep into him
Holding him
in her two hands
Slowly as his life
passed away fading
She devoured him
A little crumb
Was to fall
to the ground
As she rubbed her belly
With a horrid laugh
Taking her hands
Off her broomstick
Laughing contentment
Flew head
Over backwards
Falling of the stick
Spiraling hits
the ground
in a splat
An almighty bang
She died
on Halloween night
The crumb was picked up
By a little bird
Muffin man's
resting place
He was hailed
a hero
witch killer
On that very night
In the wind
you can hear
screams of a witch
She's still
in hunt
For muffin man
To redeem her soul
The last crumb
She never got
Roaming searching
Sometimes you see
her shadow
On a broomstick
On the moon face
Once there was this badger;
he was really selfish!
He hated doing merger
in hunting for fish.
One time he found a muffin,
and hid inside a coffin.
He had a delightful munch,
enjoying his early lunch.
He was so satisfied that he slept;
shadows of the sunset soon crept.
"Good evening" he heard from outside;
"How are you getting on inside?"
Slowly the coffin lid was open;
the badger's fright was sudden!
It was a face of a vampire he saw;
quickly the badger was on his toe.
The fanged being was very worried;
the coffin belonged to his friend, Alfred.
So fast and far away he ran,
afraid of being the vampire's fun.
He had to look for another hiding place to eat,
far away from places where vampires meet.
Purring in perfect perfection.
Curled up in contended contentment
he lies - half asleep, half awake -
ears attuned to tin opening...
coiled, curled, like a spring ... prepared.
Once playful and kittenish
he has aged into feline maturity.
Moving with stealth and pouncing,
surprising his prey with pliable precision,
then proudly presenting the prone prize to me.
This cat has character -
a constant companion since 'kitten-hood'.
Turning from tabby tearaway to
majestic malkin, marvellous mouser...
ears twitching as he sleeps ....
rousing to rustles - reacting with ready reaction ...
poised for action, or soporific on sofa...
preening at intervals, then asleep again -
dreaming of midnight prowling,
tom cat howling, rat and mousing.
He is my therapy: stroking his purring form;
conversing, cat-calling, cuddling, cajoling
him to come home .... he is a comfort -
a faithful feline friend, now middle-aged -
like me - and both curled up in contented contentment.
Gentleman muffin wearing monocle
My mustache never been out of fashion
Never thought bringing out my chronicle
Jockeyed searching my perfect companion
I dreamed becoming morning glory muffins
Howbeit fate is in the hands of the baker
Throws old ingredients, I’m huffing and puffing
Bread maker made me sweeter, ampler power
Window dresser puts me on display case
A lonely bun lying in wooden racks
A glace domed cake, no one blowing my face
With nightfall comes, only got aching back
Can I still witness my dawning rapture?
With people lining up to shoot my picture
16 September 2020
(Sonnet - personification poem)
The warm delicious muffin
Suprizingly hides
The berry's mind blowing taste;
The hot steamy blue
Erupting from the
Deep depths of
Crust!
A muffin
Mends every broken heart
And will
Never not miss you
Dearly when you've gone
Away.
A muffin like
Mine
Always has your heart
Near to hers and
Doesn't ever leave it
All alone.
A
Muffin is
A
Never
Discouraging and best friend
A girl could ever have.
Dedicated to my best friend and Muffin
Amanda Straub