A man once needed a merkin
But instead was given a gherkin
In his dismay
He just had to say
This God damned gherkin’s not workin’.
This tale is about Pickle Onion Percy
Who is besotted with a little cocktail pickle called Tracy Tickle
Many hours are spent together chatting and laughing
On a warm soft fresh slice of rye pumpernickel
Now, Percy is known for being somewhat fickle
He is poor and only possesses a nickel
He is the target of Asparagus and Gherkin… who take the mickle
Who harass and bully him …. As tears down Percys face do trickle
Truth is , Gherkin and Asparagus also fancy the sweet Tracy Tickle
Though she thinks they are bullies and so very mean
Both tall ,weird and lumpy looking
And horrible shades of green
Tracy Tickle only has eyes for Percy Pickle
Asparagus and Gherkin actually make her feel quite sickle
Percy is sweet, funny and kind
Tracy desperately wants to become Mrs Pickle!
Call me fickle
no doubt about it
I’m in a pickle
a firkin full of gherkin
quite a quandary
tho' still a dill
the question isn’t funny
it’s ridiculous
others may tickle us
yet I don’t see
for love nor money
why I can’t tickle me
I’m laughing at Ex boss, Tess Tickle
Once so anti marriage – how fickle
Dick Pickle she’d marry
Though she calls him Larry
Now married she’s Tess Tickle-Pickle
On baby making Tess ain’t shirkin’
They’re bonking and grinding and jerkin’
And soon, sure enough
Tess got up the duff
The baby boy they’ve christened Gherkin!
What was a gigolo to do?
"I'll fill my gherkin with glue!"
Virgins said with a grin,
"We're sticking with him,
You'll have naughty sons like you!"
Author's note: I dug deep into my archives chest to retrieve this piece of utter nonsense, dear readers, because I thought it would make a good submission for April Fool's Day...
Freckles!
People who have freckles
Are sometimes people who eat pickles.
But pickles have bumps,
They don't have freckles.
Bumpy people are often fickle
And won't eat pickles without freckles.
A squash with speckles might be pickled,
But is no sub for freckled pickles,
Which is being pickle fickle.
If someone earned a nickel
For every pickle with a freckle,
He'd have to gorge on hordes of pickles
Just to make one lousy nickel.
Now I'm in a poetic pickle
And my brain is overworkin',
So freckled people don't be fickle,
Avoid the sun and eat a gherkin.
Autor's PS: This piece, as I recall, started out to be a parody of the song "People" from the musical "Funny Girl", but quickly took a very sharp left turn and turned out quite differently.
[Written with ‘Pickle Party’ contest in mind
but missed the deadline.]
[A pickle (USA) = A Gherkin (UK)]
———
Mr Gherkin from Great Britain
Met Miss Pickle, USA
A cross Atlantic soirée
That was going A Okay
He looked her up and down and said,
“So how are you today?”
She looked at him and said, “Terrific,
now you’ve come my way.”
He said, “I love your nice green skin.”
She said, “I like yours too,
alas you smell of vinegar,
a little like I do.”
He asked if they could meet again
She told him, “On your bike.”
She said, “I don’t think we would work,
we’re just too much alike.”
If a pickle brings a paddle
To a party in the fall,
And the court is colored umber
And it looks just like the ball,
Would you relish the cucumber
Who was forced to make the call,
Or the dill-ettante not worth his salt,
Who knows no rules at all?
Or that silly little gherkin
Who suddenly got hot,
‘Cuz that dink into the kitchen
Was his bread-and-butter shot,
And the pickleball had landed
Somewhere near the center line,
But all the little gherkin did
Was to brine till he got fined?
If they played it on the sabbath,
Is it kosher for a dill
To slap that little gherkin
And to tell him just to chill?
But the classic was that Vlasic
Who was spying on that sour,
And they caught him with the cornichon
A-peeping in the shower.
No matter how you slice it,
If you relish it or not,
I don’t need to embellish it,
That spicy sour was hot!
----------
for the It's a Pickle Party Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
written on 09/07/2022
CUCUMBERS OR NUMBERS
Here we are together, all as mates
Clustered in several separate plates
Vinegar soaked, as all pickles are
Yet each in our own way, a star
Adding that extra taste to cheese
As our main intention is to please
While we are still hale and hearty
The gherkin says, let’s have a party
Our French friend won’t understand
He’s a cornichon in that foreign land
But we like each other for good or ill
Even overshadowed by that tall dill
Lying here, no chance for any fun run
Especially with that big pickled onion
But we feel sorry for that brown lump
Just sweet pickle, and has got the hump
Yet believed to be a computer nerd
And quite up to date as we’ve heard
But at this party we’ve heard enough
So let us dump all the techie stuff
Even if it brings tears to our eyes
Python pickle will quickly de-serialise
“It’s a pickle, Puss,” her husband proposes.
“Is it sweet?” she probes.
“It’s a dill, Darling. Just what the doctor ordered.”
The doctor’s face, like vinegar. The nurse didn’t care
for pickles at all. She thought the pickle was a prop.
“No,” the doctor said, “It is a proper pickle and delicious,
though I’ve not tried it.” The nurse just stared
at the newest addition to the pickling jar. It’s junior size,
a miniature snack, at best. It won’t get any bigger.
“Get me a Gherkin!” the doctor yells, “Stat!”
“That’s not a pickle!” yells the wife,
“That’s not a craving. It’s a baby cucumber.”
“Well, I’ll be pickled!” the doctor laughs.
“What a quack!” whispers the husband to his wife.
To the nurse, “Get my wife a snack.”
The nurse brings in the prized pickle and the wife snatches
the giant jolly green, “Now, this will do quite nicely.”
And the couple lived happily ever after, unencumbered,
having the whole enchilada, well the prickly pickle, dear.
8/27/2022
Contest: It's A Pickle Party
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
All the Pickled produce gathered
At Branston Manor - if you please!
They entered via a staircase
Made of Jacob's Crackers and Cheese.
The Gherkin Girls and Chutney twins,
Who's names are Tom and Mango
Compete against the Beetroot Troupe
To make the taste buds Tango!
The Beetroot Troupe are not alone.
They have a wise old friend
Zingy Mr. Vinegar.
Always ready to defend.
The Silverskins call upon
The Shallots acapella choir
To pack a punchy added flavour
In a pitch that can't go higher.
The sour Grapes sulk in the corner.
They apparently should not have come.
Only Pickles were invited.
It was not open to everyone.
The Eggs got pickled with too much drink.
They thought it would be fun
To gatecrash the party
Just to confuse everyone!
It was an event to be remembered.
But alas, though sad to say
The party ended abruptly.
For they were consumed that very day!
Written 18th August 2022
For the, "It's A Pickle Party Contest"
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
No bash so far, beats the one in the jar
Emcee DJ Green spins for the jarstar
No ill will to spill, just dancing on dill
When the lid comes off it’s an open bar!
So relish your time and come get your fill
No asparagus juice here, that’s just swill
That’s the best party perk of a gherkin
Gettin’ sliced on garlic, Oh what a thrill!
The sweet ones are in the corner lurkin’
While that gherkins workin’ it and twerkin’
I’m already so brined out of my mind
And the bread and butter kind is smirkin’
I’m so pickled my vision has declined
To kaleidoscopically half blind
Stumble and bump into pals in numbers
A hullaballoo of the tangy kind
Off to our shelf in the door we lumber
To catch some refrigerated slumber
May have had too many vinegar shots
Since yesterday…. I was a cucumber
August 15, 2022
It’s a pickle party contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
Pickelina Pickelina, cutest dill from Pasadena
she was hot, she was spicy with a crunch of very nicey
With a dash of cosher dill she was Duken's favorite thrill
was she gherkin was she Vlasic, what a bittersweet dill-emma !
Pickelina Pickelina middle name was Angelina
thought she was a daffo-dill all decked up in lace and frill
Relished moments of pure taste, only needed one to baste
Yes she was the sweetest dill, always dressed to over kill.
It was the Annual Pickle Party
To celebrate cucumbers
From dark corners of the pantry
They welcomed all newcomers
There was Dill and Green and Sour
And Bread and Butter too
Mustard turned up rather late
A Gherkin jar made its debut
Things were going splendidly
They were pickled and having fun
When suddenly, all went quiet
And the awkwardness begun
They were in a pickle now -
A stranger had crashed the party
He was smooth in his white suit
And smiling like the glitterati
It was a sticky situation
They looked about in dread
Who was going to tell him...
That he was a pickled egg!
What a fine party, we’ll swim in the brine
Let’s invite Mr. Kosher Dill and Mrs. Gherkin,
I’m sure we’ll make memories to enshrine
If Mr. Sweet wears his favorite wool firkin!
We must invite the Bread-and-Butter twins,
Mr. Crinkle Chips must surely be on our list
Refrigerator pickles with a Vlasic label wins
Prizes we shall offer, Miss Lime will insist.
For refreshments we can serve Mr. Kool-Aids
Since nobody will think of them as a pickle
If they aren’t in a jar and are home-made,
Our pickle party will be fun in the shade!
Written August 13, 2022
submitted to "It's a Pickle Party" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
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.