I guess she grew the largest cucumber we’ve ever seen in this state.
Hurry up and dress, we do not want to be one second late
My granddaughter has a growing thumb that goes beyond green
the super-duper cucumber she grew was a monster machine!
The mayor came out, and the prissy governor was there
I did not get near her, it simply was not quite fair
I am her grandma I yelled to the news station
Thinking I might be interviewed for the occasion
No one cared about me, an old woman, invisible now
They were all over my granddaughter who took a bow
The cucumber was grinning wide, somewhat becoming
I guess he did not know that being pickled would soon be forthcoming
"Eat your veggies," as a nipper I was told
but I'd hide 'em on me lap so Mum wouldn't scold
then all the quicker feed 'em to the dish-licker
before they were even cold
now I'm older not sadder but wiser
and do enjoy a tasty appetiser
they may appear to look like a pear
here's a myth I wish to quash
tho' they're fruit chayotes taste like
zucchini cucumber or squash
against the fence homegrown I grow me own
and me garden's full of chokos
"Choko-bloc," one might even say
I'll do a prickly pear or two
but still don't eat veggies to this day
If in all innocence
broccoli brings out flatulence
not to dwell but how many unfortunate smells
will it impart from a single floret
and in the end when it rends
does it sound like a bassoon or clarinet?
And what about the brussel sprout?
No doubt it will create heady fallout
and if on the quiet you ever diet or fast
as you are and repeat all you eat
this gas too at last shall pass.
Also the humble cucumber
which on you may do a number
what light wind
breaks through yonder soft butt?
Smile if while seated at the dinner table
as you may be able to blame the mutt.
Filled with water and crisp
With or without seeds
Cool touch to a salad
Can cleanse the palate
Raw and delightful
Calorie
Free!
Poem (The bird in a cage)
Listen to my story of how I forgot
The days of freedom and nights
I would fly with open wings
And fellow birds through woods in sprite
Hither and thither, fluttering
Over gardens, mountain and trees
And listening to sweet songs
Of nearby birds, flying bees
Unfortunately those cruel trapped me
And wrapped my desires
And put me in prison
A cage of woods and wires
Currently I miss sweet voices
Of my fellow birds
That hurt me too
How can I express it in words?
Like prisoner my tears
Flow down as dew
And lost the freedom
Of nest and sky blue
How can I forget fruits?
And eating sunflowers seeds
And bringing cucumber, melon,
Wheat and grains for my breeds
In thousand pieces my heart is broken
By listening to their words
Compare my cries, sighs,
And tears with free fellow birds
Oh my GOD takes pity on me
And give me freedom from this cage
Otherwise I may die in these hard,
Sharp wires in this age
Cucumber
early morning
I had to eat something
found a cucumber in the fridge
that was otherwise bare.
Peeled and boiled them added a bit of butter
and a pepper
stirred well when cooked and I had
mashed cucumber.
It tasted terrific a wonder for a diabetic
I have to remember til next time
the cupboard is bare.
CUCUMBER I IN A PICKLE SALAD-
O' I'm in pickle
found my means in a garden.
picked, washed, cook, LOOK!
I have evolved went,
from a cucumber to a,
pickle I’m broken.
so stressed out now I’m
being cut-up and placed in
bowl made of salad
cucumberly, I-
found myself on this sandwich .
I'm in a pickle
fickle, fickle jam,
cut up placed beside crouton.
where’s the ranch dressing?
2/21/20
She was a bookworm of the most finicky kind
reading every day with a book always in reach
at the thrifty store the books were all consigned
she rebuffed discriminately with slow impeach
and rebuked all books that weren't a food find
She ravaged books about cakes & pate de foie gras
buttered tarts, angel hair, and little canape things
books about how to bake fish and how to fry bass
like a true galloping gourmet she would bring
the recipes home, then make them sing...
When winter came she'd sit like a chow hound
and copy recipes into her little red book
feeling lucky for the precious books she found
Pillaging the remnants with eyes sharp as a rook
she made the kitchen her haven, and fair ground
Her recipe for lava chocolate soufflé had charm
and her English toffee lollies were never fickle
she bought her eggs fresh from the dairy farm
and when she made cucumber and gin popsicles,
you could lick to hearts content they do no harm .
March 12, 2019
Contest Name: The Book Worm
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Are cucumbers cool
As a general rule?
How fresh is a daisy?
Are loons always crazy?
How snug is a bug
When he’s not in a rug?
How gentle are lambs
If not happy as clams?
How clever’s a fox
That’s as dumb as an ox?
How fit is a fiddle
Not clean as a whistle?
Are doornails most dead,
Or are dodos instead?
Is it drier than toast
To say “deaf as a post”?
Such puzzles befuddle and much mystify
Till suddenly you see they’re as easy as pie!
Such A Cute Cucumber
She was a cute cucumber;
Such a surely hot number;
Did meet;
So sweet;
Together decided to slumber.
Jim Horn
When first time I had met her,
What I noticed and did occur;
We swirled;
Hair curled;
Ball room floor we took a tour.
Jim Horn
The merciless sun
The cucumber leaves all scorched
Still you need the torch
_________________________________
April 16, 2016
When cucumber comes to market ready
Placed next to produce in the store
In the company of strange vegetables
Odd fruits sit there spoiling not happy
Oppressed in dirty boxes every day they worry
Declare war on items grown and green
Things on sale that should not be there
Cucumbers selling three for three dollars is not fare
Fruits can not tell the truth or do arithmetic
They don't understand cucumbers are only one dollar each
Don't realize such things when packed away in storage
Some vegetables are green and waxy
Those are the facts
They taste good and have a snappy crunch
You do not have to pay taxes on vegetables
They are placed on tables in a salad after hours
That is what they were made for
Not for war
a cucumber plant
loves his master's young daughter
tendrils shiver thrilled
CUCUMBER PHILOSOPHY
Don’t smile, frown or in any way express emotion
Just gotta lie here and keep straight, green, stiff and shiny
Soldier cucumber on parade, dressed left with all my buddies
On display, under inspection
Civilians admire - some even touch.
Pretty women hold us up for their girlfriends
And make smutty jokes and comparisons about men
Or they squeeze us, pretending to think cucumber thoughts.
We stay at attention, reliably enduring surrogacy.
Wimpy men pick us up carelessly and toss us
Into the shopping trolley with their asparagus and dill
Children grab us for use as swords or clubs in their games
Then we get bruised and end up in the reject pile out in the trash
No way for a soldier to go
Good cucumbers die young
Our ideal end is like the samurai with a sharp blade
In a swift cut across the middle
Feel nothing, know nothing
And then be of service in a salad.
I don’t know but I’ve been told . . . . . . .
No cucumber wants to end up just old
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