Best Piping Hot Poems
T'was freezing cold and I struggled in the heat
I was pleased I'd put warm gloves on my feet
I shouldn't have been out on such a cold night
High in the sky was the sun and shining so bright.
Not far to walk home now just fifty odd miles
Minutes later I'd be home, my face full of smiles
My brother was with me and she felt the cold too
Shouldn't have worn shorts, her hands had turned blue.
Went into an ice cream parlour for some yummy ice cream
It was served piping hot and gave off clouds of steam
I fancied some cold soup and it was served up on a plate
And I used two left handed chopsticks, it tasted great.
Then my cell phone rang but the battery was flat
It was my wife who wanted me to buy her a cat
She said don't tell me which one, I want a surprise
But get one with four legs, a tail and green eyes.
Called to the pet shop and asked nicely for a pet
The man said sorry we've no live ones in yet
I've got two stuffed dead dogs or a puffa fish
If you don't want it as a pet it will make a tasty dish.
I got out my credit card and paid him with cash
He said don't handle the fish it will give you a rash
Me and my bro left the shop and went off on our way
I was so worn out, it had been an eventful day.
Written on 8th September 2021
For The Nonsense Rhyme Poetry Contest,
Sponsored By Charles Messini.
If finding good times is your wish
And poetry your favorite dish,
Then visit us. The soup is on!
It’s piping hot and never gone.
And with so much to see and do,
This place is hopping! Rabbit stew
Has got to be our specialty
Because we move so rapidly.
I recommend a cup of Joe.
To keep up here, you can’t move slow,
for this is such a lively group,
you won’t be seeing turtle soup!
Chorus:
So come on! Step outside your shell.
Learn all the rules and learn them well.
Of poems, we must have every kind.
So come inside and feed your mind!
No turtle soup, but plenty of
All kinds of soup you’re sure to love -
Like vegetable hot in the pot;
Of healthy soup we have a lot!
If psychedelic is your thing,
Try special mushroom with a zing!
There’s spicy enchilada too
If Latin passion flows through you.
Some soup is salty; some is sweet,
And many soups are filled with meat.
There’s chicken noodle for the soul.
I guarantee that you’ll get full.
Chorus:
So come on! Step outside your shell.
Learn all the rules and learn them well.
Of poems, we must have every kind.
So come inside and feed your mind!
Learn how to post, and don’t be shy.
Most poets love when you reply,
Especially if you read their work.
New friendships are an added perk!
New poems appear on lists. Beware!
They vanish soon into thin air.
So many contests to get in.
You’ll feel your head begin to spin.
To learn the ropes, just ask around.
Quick! Like a bunny, leave the ground.
Hop to it! Ready, set, now GO.
Remember turtles are too slow……
Chorus:
So come on! Step outside your shell.
Learn all the rules and learn them well.
Of poems, we must have every kind.
So come inside and feed your mind!
'for Cindi Rockwell's "My Poetry Soup Recipe Contest"
Sitting on the Fence at Twilight
When the sun waved good-bye in the afternoon,
I’d say hello to the smiling Man in the Moon.
Perching on our gray concrete fence,
I’d swing my brown legs to a happy cadence.
From my solid fortress, I could see
a daily circus of human activity.
On a single bicycle rode the Fabros, a family of four;
how they all fit, it was a mystery to be sure.
The street vendor, old Papito, would hawk his treats;
oh! those warm, sticky, honey buns and tamarind sweets.
Sashaying in her tight-fitting skirt of tomato-red,
Cousin Clarita balanced a green basket on her turbaned head.
Then came buxom Aunt Alfreda huffing and puffing by,
to give me a piping hot, home-made, savory meat pie.
I’d blow on it to cool it off first, just
before biting into the flaky, buttery crust.
As day soon faded into hues of twilight,
I’d spy the occasional shiny satellite,
a tiny, silver snail slowly revolving in the sky,
moving so silently above, way up high.
For a child of seven, this was such a wondrous time…
right until the old town clock chimed nine.
Then Mama would ring her bell calling me inside,
and I’d leave the stars still twinkling outside.
04-24-2018
Contest: An Early Childhood Memory
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Placement: 3rd
A Christmas dinner that can’t be beat
Here is the menu of what we’ll eat
Mashed potatoes whipped smooth and fluffy
Green bean casserole; nice and crunchy
Pickles and olives on a perfect relish tray
Cranberry delight that’s been chilling all day
Sweet potatoes such tasty treats
Hot rolls steaming both white and wheat
Homemade honey butter and strawberry jam
A gorgeous honey glazed Christmas ham
Turkey and noodles are piping hot
A fuzzy naval salad; I almost forgot
A slow roasted turkey golden brown
And broccoli rice casserole; pass it around
For dessert we’ve a variety of tasty treats
Tons of scrumptious goodies to eat
Chocolate chip cookies and brownies so sweet
Four kinds of pies including minced meat
It’s all there so fill up your plate
I’m getting mine, I can hardly wait
As the pastel moon rises across the midnight blue
a lone wolf’s dark silhouette appears into view
his boast is known from Cowboy to prairie dog
fore this is the night chill that turns to morning fog
the early dawn is thawed by a piping hot cup o’ Joe
No time to waste, just a few days brings first snow
Such is the Cowboy’s life on the cattle drive
NO WINTER THIS YEAR! NO NONE AT ALL!
no winter this year, no! none at all!
the ducks dilly dally, honeybees in the fall!
my dry cleaners said "no need for your coat!
I'll get to it when, I dock my sailboat!"
anthills getting bigger, their soldiers don't hurry!
I checked the forecast, no chance of a flurry!
the blueberry tea, I've been served alfresco,
stays quite piping hot! thank you Ernesto!
my finest snow angel, about to appear,
must take a raincheck! with Santa's Reindeer!
the heavens above, must surely have reasons,
postponing ice fishing, and blurring the seasons!
I'll wait two more weeks, before I declare!
"remove thin-ice signs! steep drop-off beware!"
Baby doesn't like the 'peases'.
She spits them out, as she pleases.
I still have that childish vice
But spitting peas isn't nice.
Avoiding them is hard to do.
They're in the pot pie and the stew.
So, I pick them out one by one
But pea-picking is not fun.
Give me a break. I cannot take
To even smell them on the make.
Cold in salad or piping hot,
Hold the peas. Peas porridge, not!
January 11, 2018
I sat on the floor of the pavement,
Sun shining on my face.
It had been ages since I saw the sun.
It always evoked a feeling of pure pleasure,
Though the one I always remember
It was the rising of the sun from behind purple hills.
There was so much beauty in the world.
But not for me. Everybody forsook me.
People came, and people went. Neglected by all.
It was never a good morning for me.
Someone gave me a paper plate with something on it.
I knew there was nothing but mud on it.
I put it on the ground and heard the laughter
Of some youths who had dared.
I said nothing but felt the rumbling in my stomach.
I had not eaten the day before, and I felt weak.
Then another plate came—a piping hot dog.
At last, someone remembered. I ate it slowly.
It was all covered with chilli that was too hot to taste.
I was hungry and ate it slowly, trying unsuccessfully
Remove the chilli and hope for some water.
But no one offered.
Nothing else happened that day till I felt the sunset.
Some policemen roughly told me to go home to my wife.
But did I have a home? Did I have a wife?
Both had long disappeared when I lost my sight.
I hobbled to a lonely low bridge, tapping my white stick
And rested there forsaken by all until the next morn.
Note: This did happen, but not to me.
I can think of no better contentment that can be had,
Lounging in my robe and slippers comfortably clad,
Than relaxing by the hearth in my favorite chair,
Gazing at the dancing flames, ah, nothing can compare!
A winter storm rages outside piling up drifts of crystal snow.
I checked the thermometer and it read twenty degrees below!
But what care I as we settle in for an evening of respite,
Sipping Berringers White Zinfandel on this Holy winter's night!
We reminisce about the past and things for which we aspire,
Dreamily watching the glowing embers of the dying fire.
With music softly playing and the lights turned down low,
I light my pipe, savoring the aroma and its mellow glow!
I make room for dear old Simba as he curls up on my lap,
Purring contentedly and taking his usual evening nap.
My spouse prepares a bowl of piping hot popcorn for a treat.
I couldn't ask for anything more to make the evening complete!
In the autumn of my life, such simple times I truly treasure.
With my love by my side, I'm satisfied beyond all measure!
The grandfather clock measures time in its inexorable way.
Oh, that time would stand still that I could forever relish this day!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in Linda-Marie's "Holiday Hearth" Contest - November 2011
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
~ See you soon, Soupers ~
For a couple of days
I'm trading poetry soup in
for a piping-hot liquid broth
with matso balls and chicken
'Neath a bamboo-pole roof
in a flimsy dwelling seven days
I'll see stars twinkling at night
be shielded from sun's rays
With family, friends
the poor and the stranger
We'll drink l'chaim, to life
trust in God to fend off danger
With songs, stories and verse
we'll praise the One who provides
Who freed us from slavery, from Egypt
and throughout Time's been our guide
Steaming, a cup in hand
Piping hot liquid, deliciousness
Found on the heavy blend,
Sunlight reflections on the glass,
Window pane glistening,
With its gentle brilliance.
Steaming, one cupful of enjoyment,
Pleasant like the morning,
When the dew drips quietly,
Shimmering on the edges of a rose,
Blushing, shy – like the sunrise
Who beckons from the mountain crests,
Portraying the wonder of a dawn
When light penetrates
Forests and thickets with blessings.
Steaming, a cup in hand
Promising to share the moments,
Just before darkness abandons the night,
Wistful and whimsical as daybreak,
When the joy of morning begins,
And light seeps through the shadows,
Pouring hope into the carefully laid plans.
Steaming, one cupful of love,
Breathless and flowing – singing
Rhythmic as the new dawn,
Enjoyed by those who know this love –
Coffee is like the silence,
Who prepares hearts for the time,
Passing us by… the moments,
Treasures we can’t keep but still,
We won’t weep, because these treasures….
They are the fortunes found in memories –
And those memories… jewels we keep!
"Possums on the Run - Part 3"
Collecting cut
silver blue grass
carries garbage bags
green-ant bites, no siree,
this aint fun.
Stand guard, he’s the
lawn mower Pope
(she laughs)
on his ever vigilant run.
Look on him with sadness
Look on him with Love
“one less mouth to feed”,
she thinks,
“best to run run run”.
What could have been
lies under Palm, Pinaroo
buried under rain and Sun
never coming home…
He’s a roll your own man
sits on the back step
watching the setting sun
dark indigo shooting star sparkles
gecko changing colour on the wall
Fruit Bat squeals
hissing Bush Rat runs.
He’s thinking, “make
the lawn safer
ruddy trapdoor spiders,
poor piping hot water
down the holes
cover with dirt.
That’ll kill 'em,
stop the effers
before they bite ‘n hurt.”
Takes a sip of hot black Tea
gets up to iron the school shirts.
Sunday becomes Monday
becomes Tuesday bleeds
into remaining days
like Autumn leaves into
Winter trees bare barren branches
of each week, this is his life
these days his ever dwindling
seeds of memories.
What purpose day in day out
he is screaming on the inside
no where to voice it, no one to
share his Black Dog bouts.
“Make sure the table’s set for breakfast
and all the doors are locked girl,
before you turn the lights out”.
And you think,
“Is this all there is?”
You look through the windows
outside into the dark
along the fence
possums are running,
You think,
“Run Possums Run”.
Lynette, Linnet
a small bird, goddess, idol
ever golden burning Pheonix
on your shoulders
sings her fading song
“lovely child please,
never ever forget”
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
All 4 parts of "Possums on the Run" dedicated to an honourable man, an extremely courageous man, who served in both Royal Australian Army (first regiment into Vietnam) and Royal Australian Airforce, who lost his wife to cancer (32 yrs) and raised three girls on his own. This man was all about speaking his "TRUTH" and standing firm by what he believed in, my father V.C. (Peter) Burton.
1. T-Rex/Cosmic Dancer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pw8BNPn6U
Skegness
Today we walked together, hand in hand,
for miles and miles, we strolled in the sand.
We had the beach all to ourselves, not a soul to be seen.
It was like being in paradise, a dream,
The sun shone brightly, the sky was blue,
A couple of days with nothing to do,
We picked up pebbles , and threw them into the sea,
What a great place this is to be,
Time to switch off from the worries and cares of life.
Time to be, just a wife.
Then off to the café, for our bacon, eggs, tomatoes, coffee and toast.
This really is the best value on the coast,
It cost£1. 99p each person for the lot,
It was even served piping hot,
Where is this place, where I’ve had so much fun?
The place for me, come rain or sun,
The place that helped so much when my life was a mess,
The Tranquillisers, the Agoraphobia causing distress.
For me paradise on earth is SKEGNESS.
Grab a wooden spoon, and choose a mixing bowl
A breakfast that is piping hot is worth its weight in gold!
You can make them by the dozens, or one or two will do
Make them for your next of kin, or neighbors you have got
Even for those teenage boys, ...(the ones who eat a lot!)
Let's see you fry a stack of cakes that tower on the plate
The stack is high,...but folks will sigh with happiness inside
So get the griddle piping hot, and warm syrup too
And don't forget a pot of jam and marmalade is good!
Applesauce, gets an A+ ,.......and often gets applause!
Yes you can! Whip some up.....it's as easy fix to do
No need to go to I-Hop. Just make them on the spot
Wake them up to something yummy
Fill a tummy, make 'em happy, maple syrup needs some sopping
Buckwheat makes the grumpy jolly, just stir the lumps out 'til there's none
And someone's sour mood is gone, when sourdough is stacked at dawn
Flapjacks wake the sleepyheads, before they run straight out the door
They'll turn right back to have some more .....three or four, or five or six
Butter oozing down the sides, sticky syrup glazing eyes.....mouths will water
hear the laughter.....add some nuts, or raisin eyes, make a face a big surprise
Yum! Yum! Yum! M & M's add some fun, and add a chocolate prize!
And if you dare, to be so bold
Flip your flapjack, pan-fried gold.....Just grab and hold your frying pan
It 's in the grip, ......then flip ! You can !!! And if you're lucky it will land
upon the plate........not on the floor, across the room,......
but one mistake......, just mop it up, and try it all again!
Practice tennis while you're at it,...Ping pong too...., and batter-up.....
Up it goes........and down it comes........Something yummy for your tummy
Pancake's, flapjacks .......hotcakes, hoecakes..
Pick your favorite, flip them high........ make them small or any size
Make a ton........!!! It's worth a try !
__________________________________________________
For Didactic Food Contest: sponsored by Tammy Reams
10/5/15