Best Muffin Poems


Premium Member Terzanelle - Muffin

Written: January 22, 2026, for contest Sponsored by: Joseph May

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The muffin batter sits, poised for the heat
A tender blend of flour, milk, and the air
I stir it softly, focused on the treat

I handle the dough with velvety care 
Its smoothness is a hint of flavors' shape
A tender blend of flour, milk, and air

The muffin dough begins its languid crepe
It rises, soaked in the nuggets of knead
Its smoothness is a hint of flavors' shape
 
A low-fat pumpkin bran muffin dish leads
Butter and sugar, whisked till soft and pale
It rises, soaked in the nuggets of knead

I swirl, I turn, I listen to the rain,
The muffin batter sits, poised for the heat.
A bittersweet cadence I can't restrain;
I stir it softly, focused on the treat.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Muffin and the Cupcake

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

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


Premium Member Blueberry Muffin

Blueberry muffin.
Sweet things embedded in cake.
What a breakfast treat!
Blueberry season is near.
Bring plenty of muffins here.

Premium Member Holiday Muffin Man

Honey glazed muffins,
Fresh from the oven,
Turkey with stuffins,
Baked w/tender lovin'.

Premium Member Muffin

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.


The Muffin Man

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

A Blueberry Muffin

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!

Muffin Top

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!
© George Aul  Create an image from this poem.

The Wisdom of a Muffin

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?

Badger and the Muffin

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.

Premium Member Muffin Man

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

Premium Member Muffin

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

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)

Blueberry Muffin

The warm delicious muffin 
Suprizingly hides 
The berry's mind blowing taste;
The hot steamy blue 
Erupting from the 
Deep depths of 
Crust!

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