Long Croutons Poems
Long Croutons Poems. Below are the most popular long Croutons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Croutons poems by poem length and keyword.
Scene
An old bakery with traditional baked food on display.
Husband(H) and wife (W) and the baker (B) at the store!
The Wife and Baker are in love unknown to the husband!
A conversation bordering on a potential affair!
W: Every time I pass by, I am dragged in to your store,
What I see here makes me want it, want it even more,
B: I am craftsman young madam beyond compare
all your daily needs I shall serve you well with care!
W: The gentle breeze that rustles your new curtains,
make my juices flow with aroma of your croutons.
B: Silken smooth they are and so soft to touch,
my special rod will hold them, thank you very much!
W: I see your lovely buns are so firm, so strong,
I would love to hold them, hold them long!
B: I would be delighted madam if you would,
I have a hot oven that will service you good!!
W: I licked your bourbons and they tasted so yummy,
What you gave me is still growing in my tummy!!
B: Well you have not yet pleasured them all
If you ever need them just give me a call!!
W: I see how well you would knead with those hands,
I have some parts that require similar demands,
B : I am at your disposal whatever your needs,
I have more to offer than bakery list reads!
W: I look forward to some more sausage from you,
Make sure they are long so I can pay my due!
B: You can bet they will be as you dearly love,
I wish I could give it to you, here and now!
W : Oh, Wait till day break when his office opens,
just bring your stuff to my door! see what happens!
B : Here is a free sandwich, sir, for work tomorrow,
to be happy in life, we need to share or borrow!
H:- Thanks for the sandwich!! you are so kind!
Epilogue: Life is like that, If you don’t mind!
Spring is a colorful salad
Roses are her radishes
Marigold her croutons
Lilacs in her dressing, dribbling sweetly
She is tossed in wind storms
Spring is a tasty salad
She uplifts the diners
She delights the songbirds
She nurtures the baby lambs
She brings greenery back to the meadow
Spring is a hearty salad
She feeds our souls
She nurtures our imaginations
She sings her forest songs
She rejuvenates us in the most heart-felt ways
Spring is our dessert salad
Her birds serenade us
Her bunnies show off their fluff
Her squirrels scold us gently
She brings us such enthusiasm and happiness!
Written: May 18, 2019
Contest: Objectifying a Season Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Leila and I once stumbled
Across a slumbering badger,
Snuffled and snuggled
Before our eyes in a bustle of bristle
In surprise, he vanished.
Before we could make his acquaintance,
Find our manners and
Politely invite him for supper.
Maybe, he just had a prior engagement
For he was already
Suited in pitch black and white,
Monochromatic, dissolved into the night.
I would have set him a place at our table,
Best silver and ‘Doug’ on his label.
Earthworm filled teacups in
Floral bone china
For our industrious mustelid miner.
By moonlight, we’d eat devilled eggs,
On croutons, we’d load peanut butter,
And for pudding, nocturnal delights.
A humbug array of mints on a platter
After dinner, we’d hector and badger and chatter,
The most elusive question and countryside matter –
TB or not TB?
I invited a dragon to dinner
(That was almost the wrong thing to do!)
Have you ever seen what a dragon
can do to a bowl of beef stew?
The carrots were shrunken and shriveled.
The celery- quite a sad sight,
yet the dragon seemed rather delighted
as he gobbled up every last bite!
The salad was quite a disaster
with the croutons burnt to a crisp
and the lettuce was beyond recognition
and wilted into a green wisp!
Still that dragon ate every last morsel
and was pleased as a dragon could be!
Cause he roared and belched rather loudly,
but politely exclaimed, “Pardon Me!”
Next I passed the desert to the dragon
as we giggled and talked for a spell.
Then the dragon thanked me profusely
and uttered a steamy farewell.
He taught me to laugh at my worries,
enjoy life with good company,
so tomorrow he’s coming for breakfast
and frying the bacon for me!
Inventing Cusher Ball
_____________________________
Botrytis she spoke of the need of these things
a tantilizing pleasure she spoke
the admiration of the tears a marvelous flute and
a beautiful wine.
Veritel one asked as she then made reference
to the wine
which was made from the fruits of the feild
which type of grape she neglected to mention
her husband then spoke saying the Trebbiano Toscano
are stars of this show
which performance is pleasing and granduerous
the lingering flavor to the finish
which are appealing and perfection
the crispness of a frosty autumn moring
you can hear the sun and dew
crsiping up to a trebbainoish sound
the smiles of pleased persons mind you
smiles of satisfied palettes.
piano, strings and light percussion
they oven dried tomato's
red bell peppers, jalapeno, green bell peppers
and yellow squash, garlic, onions and two anchoive fillets(minced)
when the veggies were dried they sprinkled fresh parmesean and Mozzerella on a greased cookie sheet-cookie sized
and topped it with the dried veggies, baked until the edges were
browned. they decorated the salad
a salad that was topped with a egg yolk salad dressing(mixed with a oil based itailain dressing)
on romaine lettuce, croutons, boiled eggs,ham, grilled chicken
tomato's, olives, mushrooms, Soppressata
served with a grilled Alliagater Gar Fillet
a dessert of Key Lime Pie and Coffee.
fresh cut mushrooms in the chicken broth
steam of aroma tintillating the tablecloth.
onions fried in olive oil, drizzled on top,
tendrils of thyme dip the garlics in chop.
oregano flakes float in lime green sauce,
rawness of ginger, with the broccolis toss
a splash of sherry on layers of cream
scrambled with eggs, carrots in the team
sipping grated cheese lingering in slow
croutons now dampened, soft and low
paprika sprinkled noodles, a hug so warm
Oh! the bowl's finished, soup-erb perform.
as a perfect medley melts in the mouth,
spoon keeps stirring from north to south.
she ordered French Onion soup
with garlic bread
a sadal with a thousand island dressing
with garlic bread (instead of croutons)
french fries
and The Duck and Pork with Truffle oil
(with a Pionot Noir from Burgundy)
and a decatant Chocolate Croussaint
with a Orange wine (Monje) with
coffee
Both she and he smoked
a Arturo Fuento
They spoke of each sound being
intended for another purpose
meaning even the errored parts might
make the recording
when the song is mixed down t final track
might the absences of mind
(due to the excitement
of great food) After the first two songs we stopped
and di some excercise
for 20 minutes
before
he came back in with some
cookies and eggnog.
Just a little bit she said
not wanting to
eat to much. All this "Ole Timey stuff.
I thought you like me. "The Ring Exchange is strange
Misiter what is your intent.
I have another one of those cigars now.
I kinda like the flavor and scent!" Rum in the eggnog: Grip
acting cheap sniffin the Lilies I see,
Pour more in the cup My Mister
bump up the nog I give you consent!"
When I say Yuletime instead of yuletide you'll
know when I'm drunk!"
Diva Dame Misstress
the Grand Diva of
them all !
She wanted the dinner to be specail so she asked
her specail freind to fix it for her.
she would offer both roast pheasant and chicken
combined with fried polenta with
buttermilk ,bacon bits redbell peppers, chives and asparagus.
Sagey dressing. Garlicey mashed potatoes, and gravey.
goat cheese/cream cheese herbed pastries.
garden salad with croutons, and a savory Catilina dressing.
Boc Choy and cabbage.
roasted butternut squash medallions.
a rich poundcake and brioche bread pudding
with eggnog, dates, coconuts, dried cherries, and dreid mango:
served with vanilla icecream and toffee.
an offering of wines.
All to get people smiling.
Such Innocent Madness
Listening to KHJ with the Real Don Steele,
playing it straight and loud on Boss Radio, with an
Elusive Butterfly wafting about, inside the tan ’68 Caprice,
when his secret journey of a thousand eye blinks,
commenced painstakingly and torturously,
like a dead glacier on fire.
To the left there, by her brown-skinned sternum,
with her young heartbone cleaving through snail-paced determinations,
he found her tender button throbbing,
beneath the cotton cover and the bleach,
there, in the excruciating darkness of teenage intensities;
You and he were reaching for the soul of an hour,
not stopping until constant time achieved the impossible stare off,
between them and it,
between the air, and the touching;
between the voicing of electronic controllings,
and the perennial reaching for another red apple,
served au jus, with croutons, earwax and studied leanings.
Now, it is just another pause in the exertions of young existence,
another heaving mindmelt in the suburban fog,
where you and him once sat fifty years ago,
at the big oaken table beyond the archway there,
inside his mother’s old musty house on Hoover street,
amidst the closed bedroom doors, the bougainvillea,
and the tacky green carpet with a dozen dog stains.
You sat there alluringly and decidedly silent,
with your long smooth legs opening and closing,
like a panting mouth, sucking in cigarette smoke in the dry wind.
But it was such innocent madness,
what was done and said that distant night in 1969,
with you and him sitting decidedly close in the darkness,
within the secure, locked confines of the tan ’68 Caprice.
Listen. Can you hear his bellowing voice through the speaker?
The Real Don Steele said it was April, when
all elusive butterflies swarm to the beat of the night,
the elusive time for young lovers to learn, and sigh.
.
.
I built a grand salad of chaos and cheer
With pickles that whisper and cheese that can hear
I tossed in three noodles, a shoe, and some jam
Then sprinkled confetti on top of a yam
A carrot recited a speech to a bean
While olives formed conga lines nobody’s seen
I added cold waffles and lukewarm perfume
A pineapple slice that demanded more room
Two croutons eloped with a radish in June
And celery tried to lasso the moon
A tomato complained that the lettuce was loud
So I stirred in a cloud just to quiet the crowd
I folded in glitter and half of a map
A cucumber wearing a coat and top hat
A raisin declared it was now in command
While spinach applauded with leaves for a hand
The bowl tried to flee but I held it in place
This salad makes no sense and that is its grace
Nothing I said was close to evident
Look at me I could be president