Best Parsnips Poems
Swallowing soil's nutrients, they swell up under earth -
round or tubular vegetables of edible wholesome delight!
Carrots, beets and onions steadily fuel the body,
but yams, potatoes and parsnips - baked and buttered -
are the ones I ROOT the loudest for!
Written Jan. 4, 2016 for the Rooting For 8 To 5 contest of nette onclaude
Sunday roast
A meal I loved
for some time not partaken
When Ma was here
Well ~ oh my dear
Served on the dot at one o’clock
And woe betide if we were late
it would be on the table
upon our plate
and steaming hot
Whether we were there or not
Nowadays it’s just for one
Has somehow lost appeal
To sit alone now on my own
I really don’t enjoy
Those crispy roasted spuds
with golden Yorkshire puds
buttered carrots ~ roasted parsnips
on my plate roast leg of lamb
a generous dollop of minty sauce
with thick meaty gravy piping hot
Three cheers for the cook
Three cheers for the host
I can almost taste it ~ I can almost smell it
Ma always cooked the best Sunday roast
Now my grandson is a vegan
his girlfriend she is too
my granddaughter a veggie
oh what am I to do
I cannot beat them
so I will join them
nut roast now my Sunday roast
but I'm still yearning for the taste
of Ma’s on the dot at one o'clock
her Sunday roasts delectable
each mouthful unforgettable...
Written 4 July 2021
Contest A BRIAN STRAND JULY 4
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
One stone… but please not one ounce more!
Just three cheese straws… or was it four
Nut-crackers made for breaking in
To hardened shells with nuts within
Candies there to tempt my eye
Selected as I wander by
Soft mint creams with chocolate skin
And one more glass of gin
What we call a stone, is, in fact, fourteen pounds
But this British measure so often confounds
About the same weight as two newborns in prams
It’s also called Six point three five kilograms
Two stone… but please not one ounce more,
Those pigs in blankets, I adore
Turkey; roast with stuffing in
Sparkling wine instead of gin
Gammon with an orange glaze
Honeyed parsnips hold my gaze
Cocktail sausage on a stick
And gravy rich and thick
What we call a stone, is, in fact, fourteen pounds
But this British measure so often confounds
About the same weight as two newborns in prams
It’s also called Six point three five kilograms
Three stone… But now it’s nearer four,
Dad, your pants don’t fit no more
Wife says, “Slice of cake for you?”
I say, “No,” but then I do
Mince pies, cake, profiteroles
Christmas pudding, sausage rolls
Custard, jelly, squirty cream
Tried the scales… but hear me scream!
…
…
What we call a stone, is, in fact, fourteen pounds
But this British measure so often confounds
About the same weight as two newborns in prams
It’s also called Six point three five kilograms
One stone, two stone, three stone…… and FOUR!
My tum’s a shadow on the floor
I was male but now not sure
For I can’t see the proof no more
But sausage rolls that went uneaten
Were never gonna see me beaten
So, it’s diet meals drunk through a straw
Like every Christmas gone before
Oh contraire… my Frigidaire
Is full of sherry trifle
I took a little peek in there
A truly festive eyeful
I’m fit to burst but I don’t care
For Christmas MUST HAVE trifle
I’ve got a bowl, I’ve got a spare
I’VE GOTTA HAVE THAT TRIFLE!
What we call a stone, is, in fact, fourteen pounds
But this British measure so often confounds
About the same weight as two newborns in prams
It’s also called Six point three five kilograms
If you want to grow up big and strong,
Listen here, you won't go wrong.
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose all the colors from the rainbow.
We never get enough of green--
Here's the kinds of foods I mean:
Grapes, avocados, lettuce, cabbage, green beans, spinach,
lentils, kiwis, honeydew melons,peas, bell peppers...
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose yellow from the rainbow.
bananas, lemons, golden apples, summer squash, butter, yellow peppers, ...
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose orange from the rainbow.
Cheeses, carrots, mangoes, cantaloups, apricots, peaches, pumpkins, oranges...
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose red from the rainbow.
Strawberries, cherries, tomatoes, meats, raspberries,
grapes, watermelons, apples, plums,
red peppers, radishes, beets, ...
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose purple and blue from the rainbow.
Grapes, cabbage, plums, eggplant, blueberries, ...
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose brown from the rainbow.
Meat, potatoes, pears, coconuts, nuts, whole-grain breads ...
If you want to grow, grow, grow,
Choose white from the rainbow.
Eggs, cheese, parsnips, fish, onions, milk, yogurt,
(chorus)
The greater the variety,
The healthier you'll always be.
Meat, eggs and dairies
grains, fruits, and veggies.
To wash them down there's nothing better
Than big glasses of water.
There's a land to visit in your dreams
a place that really has, it seems,
no Brussels sprouts or cauliflower,
no cabbage, broccoli or sauer-
-kraut or parsnips or broad beans,
and where peas truly are the only greens.
Spuds they bake there have some crunch
so they go quite well with Sunday lunch.
And, to get apple pie or creamy whips
you only have to eat your chips.
So close your eyes and try to find
The Land Of Kale Much Maligned,
where Popeye, building superpowers,
shuns spinach and instead devours,
guess what, to give him strength supreme?
Yes! Lots of scones with jam and cream!
She stays awake for hours, cutting Xs in the sprouts,
Then peels all the tatties, a ton or thereabouts,
Slicing and dicing parsnips is next up in the plan,
Chops up carrots and a swede, and put them in a pan,
Mixes up her sage and onion and stuffs it in the bird,
Along with some pork sausage meat that’s been pre-prepared,
She takes apart the oven, to fit the turkey in,
Hangs it up with bits of string, there’s no room in the tin,
Wraps sausages in bacon, in case they catch a chill,
But makes sure they‘re all cooked thoroughly, so the family won’t get ill,
Cooks the bird for hours, while the table’s being laid,
With all the finest crockery (and some of lower grade),
Makes space around the table, brings in extra chairs,
Adorns the place with candles and other Christmas wares,
Lays out a Christmas cracker in everybody’s place,
Complete with rather tacky joke, no doubt of a straight face,
And brings out all the condiments, the pickles and the sauce,
The salt and pepper, the mustard and radish known as “horse”,
Next she makes the starter, the simplest course by far,
A cocktail made up of prawns and a sauce out of a jar.
The family then all piles in, and argues over seats,
The children are already full of chocolates and treats,
Grandmother is mumbling, “Kids should be seen not heard”,
Meanwhile back in the kitchen Mum’s wrestling with the bird,
She tries to carve up slices, but ends up with turkey chunks,
While Dad and Gramps have become a pair of Christmas drunks,
They start an argument about which wine goes with the meat,
And restless children run around, not staying in their seat,
Mother tries to keep her calm and bravely soldiers on,
But the roasties are all blackened and the sprouts are over done,
Mum enters the dining room looking very puffed,
She throws the turkey down and shouts ,“There you go! Get stuffed!”
18th November 2012
It makes a heart glad to know
there are still, small country towns
like Woodford, where homes
with large old trees,
sit scattered between small shops
and local businesses
To think the spirit of Elvis exists
in a greengrocers’, called, “Grapelands.”
‘Elvis Parsley’ swivelling his hips
amongst the carrots and parsnips
imitating “Blue Suede Shoes."
I select a punnet of strawberries
as a smile slips out at the absurdity,
of how, some live out their fantasies
“Blue blue “…you can do anything
I cross the street to check out
a “Second-hand” furniture store.
It is closed so I cup my hands
and peer through the window.
A group of old, store mannequins
piques my interest, draped in 50’s fashions
It seems like a time warp, as there
are no opening hours posted on the door.
I wonder if the mannequins
are an eccentric collection,
or, if they were for sale,
which one, I would buy,
The one, with eyes, demurely cast down,
or, the arm-less one,
looking enviously past her
Back on the street, I inhale sun-warmed earth,
as I walk past a garden’s bright picket fence.
A shiny black crow flaps up, startled.
Suddenly I smell, what the scent of home
is like, for someone else.
For My Kind of Town Contest
Janis Thompson
Alphabet soup, homemade, here's how
Begin the dish with alphabet pasta and homemade chicken broth
Coriander is next, chopped finely and bruised in cloth
Dice some carrots and parsnips, add chopped swedes as well
Endives and onions tickle the taste buds, create aroma for smell
Fennel bulbs and feathery fronds add pique and intrigue
Grate some Parmesan, add mace and cumin, for spicy blitzkrieg
Heat on high to just before boiling, then reduce heat and simmer gently on low
Insert a spoon and swirl to see perchance what the letters spell out on surface floe
'Just' eat the better half of all meals on your plate
'Keep' snacks at bay by banning from pantry, making temptation abate
'Lessen' you loaf time by walking, running, cycling an hour each day
'Make' wholesome meals, with whole fresh foods and vegetable buffet
'No' more quick junk food fixes to cure feeling-down and depressed
'Or' between meal snacks when hunger pangs bite and diet gets stressed
'Portion' control is far easier that counting calories each time you eat
'Quell' your calories by skipping lunch or one other meal, and each day repeat
'Regular' fasting far easier than eating dietary greens and stuff with no appeal
'Sociably' better, sharing main meal with family, friends, bypassing diet exclusion ordeal
'To' make sure you keep on track to lose weight, eating less and keeping slim
'United' plan and pledge to make durable lifestyle changes to become terrific and trim
'Verily' to keep to your plan, to keep from being beaten
'Waiting' no more to make it happen
'Xeroxed' copies of Mediterranean Diet Recipes at the ready
'Yearning' to be slim and terrific with weight steady
'Zapping' through each day with gusto
Come an get the gall-fat Harry,
Dirranabandi in the thirties ,
Poor ole Crothers had to frown,
Boomi-Jack’s got a sheep down,
Sucking chops an eating, clown,
Come an get the gall-fat Harry,
Harry Crothers was the local Squatter,
Boomi the bush arsonist,
Burnt out the Eight mile, good an proper,
Was partial to some sodgy parsnips,
Come an get the gall-fat Harry,
Boomi-Jacks got a sheep down,
Harry owned the Eight mile,
Harrys grass was burnt and gone,
Burnt out for ole Lindsay,
Harry sacked him, fore he’d gone,
Come an get the gall-fat Harry,
Boomi-Jacks got a sheep down,
Payback of the Boomi-Jack,
Ten bob paid to Boomi-Jack
Burning Belah trees on the track,
Burnt em into little logs,
Fascinated by cross-burnt nogs,
But no he wasn’t slack?
Boomi crossed the ole Balonne,
River bridge, his shadow cast upon,
Copper spoke from the other side, on on,
“Boomi-Jack, you’re jailed tarred and gone”,
Boomi dumped the jolly jumbuck,
In a river running a banker, but,
“Want the evidence swim for it copper,
Otherwise you is outa luck”:}
Don Johnson
gall fat was the fat round the kidneys on a sheep,
used for cooking on the nineteen fiftys, wood stove
i used to have my eggs fried under kidney fat,
great tucker never mind the cholestrial ...
YOU AINT LIVED TILL YOU TRY THIS DELICASY:}
Fifty years ago in Dirranbandi 400 mile west of the Brisbane coast,
people were robbed of their rightful wages and took an occasional Sheep off the master who was MR or Sir ....The Sir Squatter ate his neighbours sheep or cattle too ...
If it dared to eat his grass it paid the price:}
Two portabella caps Stems removed deeply and diced.
Frills down in olive oil and butter (with stem pieces)
Pan hot
Flip to frills up
Fill with italian dressing and cheddar cheese
Fry covered at simmer
Steam spinach
Steam parsnips in buttered water
Saute two filet mignon wrapped in bacon
divide equally on two plates
Sip wine and share the joy with friends
A Vegetable Story
Broccoli, Spinach, yummy fresh Garden Peas,
Cabbages, Winter Greens, Cauliflower Trees.
Runner Beans and broad, Mange Tout so Francais,
Curly Kale, Crunchy Sprouts on a cold windy day.
Onions, Parsnips, Carrots and tall Welsh Leek,
King Edwards, Purple Turnip, ready next week.
Corn cut off the cob with sweet Barley Rice,
Mash up that Swede for a treat savour nice.
Tips of Asparagus are one acquired taste,
Into the soup, don’t let them go to waste.
Vegetable Squash with Butternut and Pumpkin,
Tearing Sour dough bread, ready for dunking.
Please don’t choke on a strange looking Arti’
Exclusively reserved for a Vegan style party.
Try some boiled Beet and a large slice of Yam,
Fennel is soporific, a bit like I am.
Parsley and Cress make a simple garnish,
Spring Onion and Celery, very Saladish.
Going to the wood, picking wild Mushroom,
Beware some are poison, Stomach-ache of doom.
Lots of choice for a Veggie style life,
No need for meat, no need of a knife.
Don’t want to preach, so my voice is on mute,
That’s all from the Veg, lets start on the Fruit.
Some Sex Appeal
(In Response to Ward's poem about Sunday)
Fixing Sunday roast is a piece of toast
What I always like about it the most
It comes with mint potatoes and parsnips.
Pudding on each Sunday has proved to be
Annoying like bad boys who also do me
So much energy pudding it will produce
But they still needed a nap I did deduce.
Why don't we just cut all of the crap
Quiet is best thing about a Sunday nap
Each night pray to God when I kneel
Give me a pregnant mum some sex appeal.
Ho ho.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
I love a radish in the springtime!
I love a radish in the fall!
I take my car and park it,
There at the farmer's market,
And buy out every radish stall!
If there’s kohlrabi, I’ll buy a few
A tasty turnip I will not eschew,
But I love a radish when the sun’s up,
And even more when it begins to set,
But at the stroke of midnight
There’s nothing else I will bite
Cept’ for all the radish I can get.
And as for parsnips, they make me larf;
And salsify? My gosh I just might barf!
But I love a radish on my waffles,
As filling in my chocolate radish cake,
Tho’ once, while in Calcutta,
I wolfed down radish butta,
and I never will forget the belly-ache!
I ate the shank of the turnips what a wonderful food
Dipped the cornbread into the pot liquor
Then shawshanked out of the room..
My mother-in-law said her father called her older sister, Shank
And he called her Shawshank
Just out of curiosity I looked them up..Surprise, surprise!!
Shank means the top of a vegetable like the turnip tops, beets or parsnips or carrot, etc..It also is a cut of meat the shank park of a ham..
However, I did not find a meaning on shawshank until I looked in the Urban Dictionary and it means passing gas in small amount moving around a room or building to keep anyone from knowing who passed the gas..LOL..I guess my mother-in-law must have been a gassy baby..LOL
What a wonderful place this world would be,
If we didn't have spinach and broccoli.
Some other things we could do without,
Are cauliflower, peas, and Brussels sprouts.
And then there are carrots, pulled from the dirt.
Just the thought of them causes my tummy to hurt.
I hate rutabaga and turnips and beans,
And all that asparagus, yucky and green.
Wouldn't it be great to not have to eat
Parsnips and squash and cabbage and beets!
We'd all do much better, eating health foods, it seems,
Like hot dogs, and pizza, and chocolate ice cream.