My grandma took us
on a field trip today.
To learn how
donuts are created.
Me, the engineer,
was fascinated,
watching the bakers
at their work
My little brother
on the other hand,
was just here
to have dessert.
although the snail’s response was sluggish
it was the slug who was moving at a snail’s pace
although the wasp made a beeline for the jam jar
it was the bee who became waspish after arriving too late
although the bedbugs were as fit as fleas
it was the fleas hoping the bedbugs wouldn’t bite that night
although the fly had opened up a can of worms
it was the worm who wished he could fly
although the ant quietly beetled away after the party
it was the beetle who kept dancing like he had ants in his pants
although the moth had butterflies before the fashion show
it was the butterfly who was a moth to the flame for the cameras
My daddy used to fry up doughnuts in a fryer when we were kids
Not every night, but once a month on Sundays
We kids got to cut the middles out of the donuts our mom started.
Dough was everywhere; we got to shake sugar on them in a sack.
I can still taste those homemade donuts, hot from that sack.
My hands loved the gritty sugar; I licked it off my fingers.
I thought everybody’s daddy fried doughnuts once a month.
I think I was twenty when I knew better.
My parents never ate in a restaurant or frequented a bakery.
I did not know about sprinkled, jelly, or glazed doughnuts.
Until I grew up and then I was horrified by the cost of them.
The first time I ate a doughnut with pudding I fell in love.
DONUTS AND MILK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I crave a treat, a sweet delight
one that brings a smile and makes my morning bright.
Donuts and milk, a perfect pair
my favorite breakfast, beyond compare.
The milk, a chalice, pure and white
a perfect complement to the donut's sugary delight.
Glazed, iced, cake, or filled with jelly
each bite a journey that goes straight to my belly.
Donuts and milk become one with me
a perfect harmony, a deliciously sweet symphony.
Apologies to Pete Seeger
Where have all the donuts gone?
They are asking.
Where have all the donuts gone?
Nobody knows.
Where have all the donuts gone?
I ate them - every one.
I hope they never learn.
I hope they never learn.
Donuts come and donuts go,
because they're round, and so
when you take them off the fire,
they're shaped like a rubber tire,
with a hole right in the middle -
they ain't no pancake from a griddle.
Where do the donuts go?
Don't ask me, I don't know.
Rise and shine
cravin' a Latte,
of mint-cream
whisked--
Robusta strong.
A dozen donuts
glazed--or so to go,
biddin' 'em
Monday Blues,
so long.
Crisp air, a fall day's hue,
Apple cider donuts, warm and round,
A taste of autumn, sweet and true.
Crisp air, a fall day's hue,
Cinnamon and sugar, through and through,
A comforting, familiar sound.
Crisp air, a fall day's hue,
Apple cider donuts, warm and round.
If we believe life is a circle
where the end of one journey
is the beginning of the next
Today I’m thankful for donuts
because…
Nothing epitomizes that belief
more than a donut does
The aroma of coffee fills the air,
As the donuts sit on the table with care.
The steam rises from the cup,
As the donuts are ready to be picked up.
The coffee is hot, the donuts are sweet,
A perfect combination that can't be beat.
The flavors blend together so well,
It's magical , a perfect spell.
The coffee is strong, the donuts are light,
A match made in heaven, a delight.
The sweetness of the donuts, the bitterness of the brew,
A perfect balance, it's all true.
The coffee and donuts, a perfect pair,
A treat for the senses, beyond compare.
The warmth of the cup, the softness of the dough,
A moment of bliss, a perfect show.
Come on take a sip, take a bite,
And let the flavors take flight.
The coffee and donuts, a perfect blend,
A moment of joy, that never ends.
The Greatest Poem Ever Written
The greatest poem ever written,
made the angels cry...
the oceans fade...
the mountains sway...
and every heart sigh.
But, you would never know...
because I hit an advertisement link below...
and away my masterwork did go.
by Martin Braun
July 28, 2023
Vanilla cake Donuts
with chocolate on top
What was a dozen
Is but two in the box.
We truly love them.
Just can't seem to stop.
These Vanilla cake Donuts
With chocolate on top.
This morning’s light seemed to blink on,
suddenly, like an urgent message.
It painted the lone, brittle cloud, racing somewhere
warmer, a shocking school-bus yellow.
There’s a -30 degree wind-chill this morning,
my coffee seemed hotter and more comforting.
I usually keep my windows cracked at night
but this air feels aggressive and sharp as a knife.
The quad, usually bustling on weekend mornings,
is empty and the few cars I see are smoking like old steam trains.
I was dreaming of sweets and of walking to “Donut Crazy,”
but that actually would be crazy, if not suicidal.
“Ooo!” I say after digging through the kitchen cupboards, “we have pop-tarts!”
Donuts are not solely for cops,
While monitoring traffic stops,
Although a cliché
The truth I convey;
They're great too, for kids, moms, and pops!
I always get up early. Early, early, early and it’s Saturday morning. So I scooted over to “Donut Crazy” and got myself 12 sugar donuts (and a selection of treats for my suitemates - I’m NOT suicidal.)
At 8am, I’m in the suite common area, on the couch, binging “Ladybug and Cat Noir” on my iPad and I realize that Leong, one of my suitemates, is sipping her coffee and staring at me like I’m a bad pet. I look around to find myself sitting in a shower of confectioners’ sugar speckles.
“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.” I disclaim.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.