Flapjacks Poems | Examples

The Great Return

Let's bring it back; let's go back
To that sweet, old thing we now lack

Make it great again, go back again
Let's start right away; let's begin

Back to organic maple syrup over Mama's hot, buttermilk flapjacks
And Daddy's Saturday morning tutorials on how to change the oil and how to use a scissor jack

A return to strangers saying 'hello' to strangers in passing
Souls offering sincere pleasantries that are warm and long-lasting

Let's take a trip back to Mayberry
With some good old-fashioned Andy, Aunt Bee, and Barney

Back to decency, respect, kindness, and hospitality
A good, wholesome place; a good space of love and integrity

Let's go back far away from the masks and the distant, cold stares
Back to sharing a sandwich at lunch and car ride shares

For too long, we've sat lonely in a sunken place
Such a cold, dark, and constricted space

Let's go back, let's revisit, let's taste that lost sweetness
That wholesome, rich thing that's bustling with goodness

A Pancake is a Pancake

You can call them flapjacks.
and you can call them hotcakes,
You might call them johnny cakes or griddle cakes or crepes.
I don't see the difference that it makes. 
They come by many a name, 
but a pancake is a pancake
just the same.

The Fairmile Guest House

We arrived early at the Fairmile
We’re welcomed by Jason’s warm smile
He made a pot of tea
For my hubby and me
I’m happy we’re staying a while!

Our bedroom was spotlessly clean
And as for the breakfast cuisine
The huge choice was amazing
(Overnight oats I’m praising)
We feasted like a King and Queen!

The pre–order system is great
It ensured the food on our plate
Was ready on time
And it tasted divine
One downside I’ve put on some weight!!!!

For treats you need not travel far
The lounge has an honesty bar
Drinks and tasty snacks
Like yummy flapjacks
This guesthouse should rank a four star!

Hosts Jason and wife Melanie
In tandem, they work seamlessly
I can truly attest
They look after each guest
Shame Fairmile’s not closer to me!

There’s plenty more that I could say
But sadly I’ve not got all day
If it’s in your plans
To visit St Anne’s
The Fairmile’s the best place to stay!

Waffle House

The door rings,
I look up,
someone with someone else,
back to my eggs and hash browns.
The door rings
Spatulas knell the griddle.
The skinny cook yells in Kentucky Yiddish.
Flapjacks slap in midair,
syrup dongs in jug and jar.

Chants In a Breakfast Diner

The door rings
I look up 
then
back to my eggs and hash browns.

The door rings
I look up
nobody I know,
my first time here
why should I know anyone!
Back to the eggs.

Two sunny-side-up,
the busting of yellow yokes
with a tip of toast --- O Lordy.

I look up
the waitress has bodacious tats,
a phone bursts into song
 another vibrates
as loud as a sleeping panther.

The door rings
creamy salutations
of comfort and grease.
Spoons jangle on tinkling handles,
spatulas knell upon the  griddle.

A buttery booth crush
a flush-faced coffee klatch.
The skinny cook yells in Kentucky Yiddish.
I look up 
flapjacks slap air
syrup pours and dongs in jug and jar.

The door chants and chimes -
Hallelujah for this ring-a-ding diner
and our Waffle House hunger.

Martha's Vineyard Vacation

Up with the children at seven
For blueberry pancakes and ham.
Flapjacks enough for eleven -
How many will fit in the pan?

Lay out some slices of bread.
Spread with egg salad maybe,
Some tuna and celery for Fred,
And a  “p,b and j” for the baby!

Fetch from the line all the towels
And swimsuits hanging to dry.
Ignore the grumbles and scowls
About sunscreen you have to apply.

Stack the pop in the ice chest.
With sandwiches, yogurt and fruit.
Pack napkins, chips and the rest
In the picnic basket to suit.

Pile out, and head for the seashore
With picnic, umbrella and chairs!
No room for anything more -
But then, nobody really cares!

Oh, joy! What a day at the beach!
We swim, jump the waves, and tan,
Drink our soda, eat a peach,
Its edges trimmed with sand!

Alack! Alas! It’s time to go!
Our homeward way we wend,
Not sad because we know
Tomorrow we’ll do it again!

I Try To Resist

Forever
   
                   Feasting  famished,

           Flapjacks, frankfurter's, fajitas

       Flavoursome  food,  favourite  feast.

          Foreboding, forbidden, feeding

                   Fruitless,  fearful

                             Fat!



2/5/2021

God and His Country Air

verdant  grasses in a gorgeous April meadow
dew fresh on delicate apple tree blossoms
red buds parade their mystical prettiness
refreshing country air which rejuvenates and revives
daybreak's shy glances peek over the hills
barn standing in as a witness for five generations
dainty daffodils sprinkled with purple violets
a fabulous day for a bit of pond fishing
bluegills and bass will be biting
handsome farmer stares at the glowering sun
appreciating God's fresh new day
loving the canvas of his verdant meadow
he can smell the warm flapjacks now
his wife waves through the kitchen window
he waves back, so glad she is his!
no hurry to get inside,
loving the April meadow,
his overalls itch to head toward the pond
after our chores, he thinks
Taking another long breath of God's country air

Grandpa's Chair

Mountains survey checkerboard acreage
  Valleys squint at lonely peaks
A storm is brewing, black nimbus gathering
  Could the earth speak, it would shriek

A forlorn, gray cottage, streaked with the first slants of rain
  Joints creaking, grandpa battens down the hatches
He secures the shutters, lights a welcome-warm fire
  Then he bolts down every door's latches

Ready at last to sink into his chair, Grandma's voice startles
  'Look up!' He sees he's forgotten the roof
Up the ladder he races, just in time
                              before his flickering candle goes poof

Safe from the storm, eyes tightly shut, Grandpa leans back
  His dreams serene ~ in the morning, flapjacks

Pancake Batter Bessie

Pancake Batter Bessie
She makes flapjacks so fine
Avoiding corn syrup 
With Tabasco, liver and onions sublime.

We try to stop her 
But she is obtrusive and a ghost
Where we make our own batter 
We hide it with our toast.

For Bessie will take that batter 
And add extra stuff galore.
Peanut butter and sausage
Corn, pickles, oranges and more.

Bessie empties our pantries in the middle of the night
And grills up inventive pancakes that fill every counter in sight.
Our mother has asked her to stay out of her kitchen.
Pancake Batter Bessy’s creative juices can’t for they are always itch’n.

Ask No More

Ask no more
Summer has mellowed, gone are the thrills
autumn beds down for winter’s chills
spring will bring on the cheers
same old, same old all those years.

pull up my pillow and pull over my cap
settling down by the fire before I nap
wood box filled from my cutting
life is simple here, no golf putting.

old box radio spills out the jive of the fiddle
aroma of flapjacks hot off the griddle.
time has sure burned away my days
but my blessings  shine from the morning rays.

Eyes Wide Open

Knick Knack Paddy Whack
Can’t take back a wisecrack
If you wanna be a crackerjack
Earn a greenback from blackjack

Gotta buyback your backpack
Need to blister pack your flapjacks
Evident ebbing of drawbacks
Raises the bar for the sad sacks

The good life, so Kodak
So long as you don’t sidetrack
Selfie people hide in haystacks
Hoarding their golden tie tacks

Shall we ponder how to give back
Go beyond the dusty knickknack
Respect deserves a worthy payback
Not a flimsy whimsy kickback
 
Society requests a comeback

Unforgettable

When fragrances of candles and sachets
	come wafting to me as I shop, I close
	my eyes a moment, think of childhood days,
	and smile. I loved the sachets Mama chose
	to place in drawers—lavender and rose.

	Preparing grandkids’ breakfast takes me back
	to lovely scents of childhood. I recall
	those sausages and yummy golden stacks
	of flapjacks Mama fixed. Down our short hall,
	I hurried to be served. I never stalled!


written February 18, 2018, for Sara Kendrick's contest

The Perfect Day

Mist rises from the valley floor

Sunshine peeks over the mountain top

silhouetting the Coopers Hawk
  
soaring in the southern breeze

I sit in my old oak rocking chair

drinking my dark black coffee taking it all in.

Mornings don't get any finer

I am one

one with nature.

The smell of flapjacks fill the air

Then out walks you

my heart skips a beat

as you smile 

brighter than the clear blue stream

blending in beautifully 

with the azure sky

your caramelized eyes glisten

each time you glance my way

I can't help but smile

for this is the perfect day

Flawless Vs Flaws

TWO COUPLETS ON  “ FLAWLESS  vs  FLAWS “

POEM    1

I had no idea what he meant :
We bought a small  one-roomed unfinished apartment.
He said I was too critical, always looking for flaws.
This  apartment  was 16 floors up but had no floors.
16  floors up, this room  has its floors up.  As I speak,
The floor’s up with guys looking for water leak.
Looking for flaws ?!
Damn right I was I was looking for floors!
This place wasn’t flawless,  it was  floorless;
As well  -  by the way  -  as doorless.

POEM   2

What is the real story with Aunt  Jemima’s  pancake mix?
You gotta add egg, sugar, and milk, before you can fix 
A breakfast or lunch pile of flapjacks,
And sit back, eat, digest  and relax.
Our Aunt’s   eggless, sugarless, milkless,  but not flourless.
Her packets of stuff are certainly flawless.
Let’s hope she continues with at least her flours,
For if her stuff is flourless :  and then  it will have flaws.

• Short Flapjacks Poems
• Famous Flapjacks Poems
• Best Flapjacks Poems
• Read Flapjacks Poems
• Long Flapjacks Poems
• Flapjacks Quotes