Best Scalloped Poems
The scalloped plantain
Shapes like a scallop
Leaves open up like a fan
Flat and wide
A remarkable landmark
Eye-catching and attractive
Frankly displaying
With no secrets hiding
Sincerely welcoming you
With open arms
Strikingly loyal
With supporting and compromising
Raised hands
But sad to say
It's disappearing from the garden
People are too busy and unartistic
To admire the surrounding
To appreciate the nature beauty
To be grateful to God's creation
Scalloped coast line
Being touched gently by the continous lap
Of ocean's salt water
Just being in your place soothes my mind
Sandy shore colored by the tide's height
Just repose, doze just feel the touch
Of the water, lapping your back
Time is of no essence for it just is
Tidal pool high on the rock
God designed you to just be
To sustain life of tiny, tiny
Living beings essential to others
Enamel finger-smeared thick with butter
Yellow onions, yellow butter, floured and browned
Just add cream
From roux to dream
Now spice to glue that hold my world together
The team assembles for its tasty mission
Cheddar, gouda, mozz and more
Thick sheets of ham
Tubers sliced translucent
Layered, latticed, clothed in white bliss
Sealed deep into my black Dutch Oven
Four hundred twenty-five degrees, twice boiling
Every five minutes, I keep checking
Time warps
seconds are hours
Only half done, removing the covering
Top comes off, melting marbarella muck
Gilded golden gruyere
Splattering over spuds
Swirling cheese seas
Miasmic fragrant fromage tauntingly teased air
Beep! Beep! Beep! It's done!
Don't waste a moment
Too hot to taste
Bubbling lava lake
Slowly crusting cheesy skin emerging from the oven
Finally, the soup solidified, gooey cultured cream
Ready for the fork and spoon
Potatoes caked
Ham baked
Reality as gastro-goodness manifested dream
Onto my plate, my fork, my palette, my bliss
Scalloped potatoes are a favourite of mine
Even chow down any time before bedtime
Ain't good for the rump
Sits there like a lump
As delicious it is, you expand as you dine
The night creases into majestic cool beams of silver
By the moon’s own reflective powers of perception
She brings upon them a coat without a lining
And the evening brings with it a cold breeze along
The benches are frozen solid to the ground
No one trying to escape their grey silence inside
Beyond it the sky of darkness enfolding
Bringing with it the night’s relinquished peace
Storms caress the sky with lightning, bringing a show
Opening the heavens with a glow that holds no bounds
To the Earthly brevity that exists on the bottom layer
Where I try to make an existence, and love to love
Will she bring me a light, so that I may see the grey
The silver of the Earthly mass beneath me
So much iron towards that heavens beat me down
But nothing like the seat of tranquility that never soothes
The sea holds no secrets, it travels to the farthest reaches
And tells your stories like it was loose upon your lips
And to quell your senses of any painful memories
She must first relinquish her hearts first desire
The grey mist of yesterday, the fists of the sky, brought
Down to the pockets of doom, where no light creeps in
But the lanterns of her soul, which is kept deeper than
Any foreseen quell to the darkness of the mind, the bleak
Empty feel of dismay, grey, and seeping in the ocean
Where dead is the frost of yesterday, born into today
Where tomorrow festers like a hair upon a frozen hand
Leaving nothing but a dark mass, a scalloped heart broken
Russell Sivey