They called her triple scoop at school cuz she was kind of plump
she was made of ice cream, so all day long she ran and ran and ran
Sliding in and out of freezers just to gather herself up in a clump
They called her "Dairy Queen Of Junior High" she never got a tan
Flavored in three Neapolitan colors she came, now that is insane !
She dolloped to walloped turning away from the sun, run Queenie run
Oh how sweet but how melty she dripped each time it began to rain
The only thought through her head was, " I might as well be a nun !"
Then one day she met Mr. Freezer, who lived in an Igloo by the Artic
come live with me & we will make snowballs all day and play ...
It was best to live in the cold, for that was her honest prognostic !
together they thrived and felt good in that place called, " Snowsway"
mama’s pies were the best around
her crust was flaky and sugary
no one could bake a pie like she
she never baked a pie
she always baked three or four
I guess she only knew how to make lots of crust
there was enough left to sugar and cinnamon
for my sister and brother and I
she baked that on a cookie sheet and it was delicious!
her lemon meringue was a delicacy about which I still salivate
hot rhubarb pie with a tangy zesty zing, oh, my,
she could bake a terrific pie!
her pudding pies were enormously successful
she dolloped whipped cream on those.
I have not had a good pie since she left this earth.
Looking forward to more of mom’s pies in heaven
one of these days
I looked in the mirror and all I could see was the pain of loss,
draped in jet-black dress with a veil of gloom on my face.
I tried to smile hard but all I could see was a forced on gloss
dabbed on my lips to hide the bitter truth of grief's trace.
I endured the sufferings of life but this was a misery of death
digging the grave of my love imprisoned in a wooden case.
I tried to joke it off but my laughter was soaked in tear's depth
drowning my joyous memories of him in whirlpool of distress.
I believed the idea to live happily ever after with him on my side
dolloped with love but losing him broke my faith in shards.
I tried to flee from feel of a widow but my mourning couldn't hide;
drab heart of mine is like his cenotaph desolated and marred.
Date: 01/20/2017
Note: For the contest (Form E) by Broken Wings.
*Placed Third*
The poem is true to elegy form but also a personification cause it personifies the character of a widow.
Dawn brews morning delight,
a hot cup of sunshine
dolloped with creamy clouds.
I yawn and stretch my hands
to take a sip of such
glorious morning that
boosts me with joie de vivre.
Date: 01/14/2016
Note: For the contest 263 by Brian Strand.
Not Placed :=(
Add some water
Bring to boil slowly
Condiments will come later
Dolloped desire dropped in
Edibles let her entice
Fresh with filled flavor
Grown lovingly at home
Heartily stirred to cooking
I read the recipe and see
Jelled images of repast
Kindly koshered believers
Larders of lowfat love
Milking a midnight marinade
Nourishing nocturnally
Organic ardoured nutrition
Potluck or purposefully
Quinoa ingrained meal
Recipes of relish
Soul food sweet and sticky
Unseasoned and unwritten
Victuals for vegans
Whole meal and rice
Xanthan gum aside
Yolks and yogurts
Zealously zigzag alphasoup
© Goode Guy 2012-01-26
glue ten free soup
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