Long Delicious Poems
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I landed in Kansas, Middle Earth.
I asked the first human I met to show me something about Kansas.
She tried to describe The Wizard of Oz.
It was confusing, so she invited me into her house.
Cued up the TV and we watched a recording of their history.
Apparently Kansas started with a tornado god,
and everything was absent of color.
She gave me a crinkly bag and I sat in on my head.
She laughed, ripped it and made me taste the flat
salty things inside. They were delicious! Chips she called them.
She then ran into another room and came back with something called
Pop. It burned my throat all the way down and was awful,
so I kept my opinion to myself.
I knew she was trying to be nice, not mean.I sensed that about her.
I jumped a few times, in fright, as green men sprang out of flowers,
dancing and singing. She threw her head back and weird sounds came out of her face,
not musical sounds, more like crow sounds.
Laughing is what she told me.
Humans do not all look human. Some are big and hairy with tails,
some are made of metal, and some are small and bark like our
pets. She explained all the stuff to me, but I was so enthralled
with the flying monkeys, that I barely heard her.
The witch looks exactly like our head of state,
Morgabite, so that was fun to see.
I guess some of them do look more like us with green skin.
It was a wonderful afternoon. As I left I walked gingerly,
afraid tiny green men would jump out from under the brush and bite me.
Although my list is lengthy
Of desserts that I adore,
There’s one that I cannot resist
And leaves me wanting more:
A crumb-topped pie with berries –
Pretty simple, it would seem –
Just slightly warmed and crowned with
Some vanilla bean ice cream.
The filling should be thick and sweet,
The berries slightly oozing;
A mix works well, but blue ones
Are the berries I’d be choosing.
The crust should be delicious, too.
The ice cream scooped on high;
And as for calories to count,
Those rules do not apply.
My mom passed down her love of sweets
And one that she bestowed
Was berry pie (store-bought, but still)
Served warm and a la mode.
Love is the essence.
Your presence is flavor.
I'll savor you "Now and Later."
Your sweetness is one,
of many candies,
not just good night pillow mint "Andes."
I'm a "sucker" for you,
like an "Everlasting Gobstopper," forever true.
Even if there's "Mounds" on the "Rocky Road,"
we'll "Crunch" it out and keep our oath.
You gave me a "Ring Pop" and I said, "I do."
You're forever my "Sweettart" and I love you.
You know I'm shy, but a great romancer.
"Red Rope" me in, like a "Jolly Rancher."
Let's make it "Good and Plenty,"
as true love's meant to be.
We'll start with "Hershey's Hugs,"
then we'll twist into "Kisses."
Doesn't that sound delicious?
I'll lick your "Necco,"
as you tickle my ears.
My "Snickers" are so hard,
I'm brought to tears.
I'll "Rollo"-ver and purr like a "KitKat"
while you tenderly rub my back.
"Mr. Goodbar," you're way above par.
You make relaxing easy,
like bendy "Laffy Taffy."
You give me "Red Hots" with your fingertips.
""M"mm "&" "M"mm," are upon my lips.
Take me to "Mars," in the "Milky Way,"
Take me anywhere, as long as you stay.
Call me "Baby Ruth," or whatever you please.
Call me your girl, or a playful tease.
You're a little nutty, my funny "Almond Joy."
When it's "Reece's," I'll play with your toy.
You're not so shabby, fancy "Sugar Daddy."
We'd make great "Sugar Babies."
Maybe with lots of practice,
we might have "Twix."
We could name them "Mike & Ike,"
or something we both like.
You're such a "Big Hunk,"
and I love "Whoppers."
Let's make this night one of many non-stoppers.
(Candy names were originally in bold instead of quotations, but it didn't transfer over
correctly.)
Most women on Easter Sunday
Morning wear festive and elegant
Bonnets to match their bright
Dresses; men wear lighter, sharp
Suits with cheery feeling, not the
Usual dark ones that are so
Depressing and their neckties must be
Perfect! Coming out of the church in
Throngs, they seem brides and grooms
Again...chatting and smiling at one
Another, knowing that He was,
Risen and gone to Heaven to
Prepare a place for them and their
Children...shouldn't they rejoice
Today? And sitting at an exquisite
Table they say Grace, while Easter
Eggs and bunnies tempt them with their
Lively colors and sweet smell! Even the
Dogs and cats hide underneath the table for
An unforgettable, delicious dessert!
Entered in Brian Strand's Contest, "An Easter Picture"
Flawless, blue skies
A puffy white cloud whispers across, sky
A mountain frame melts into the horizon
Sun shining thru abyss, forest
Yielding an enchanting gleam of light
A delicious floral scent, carried on the breeze
Rolling hills overflowing with exuberance
Beautiful spring blossoms
Jasmines, daisies and wild flowers
An array of diverse brilliant colors
Butterflies casting dancing shadows across, meadow
Swallows nesting nearby high above
Close by a rose bush
Honeybees hustle, bustle sunflowers
Birds dim-dipping, singing their afternoon song, delight
Hummingbird’s flutter amongst, flowers
Approaching meadows edge
Frogs play in pond, where the air is sweet and damp
Two ducks swimming nearby where the stream arcs
A stream of water trickling downhill
Splashing as it meets the rocks
Latent in meadow
At the heart of the Countryside
I don't know whether his eyes were green or blue,
but what I do know
is that he jumped on my orange cupcakes.
Creamy and delicious
were those high school days.
Eyes drop, shy, mine,
but electricity shocks.
Twenty-five years later
I get that hug, I would have died for,
so many years before.
My best friend almost gave it away,
“Why didn't you tell me?”
(A little too loud)
I said, “That's why!”
Red hair, but what color?
Irish, but what about them eyes?
Surely, they weren't muddy.
It was clear to me,
that I made just dessert,
for you. If anyone else stood near,
I have no recollection.
I think he smiled
and licked his lips.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grew,
Still the broken down farm of my grandfather dwells.
I recall the bright red against a sky of blue,
And from that farm kitchen drifted delicious smells.
Oh the sweetness of that bush when the wind blew,
People asked grandma how- but she never tells.
Stories of her sweet red fruit pie we all knew,
To a visitor, help yourself grandpa would yell.
Grandma was famous for her red jam too,
Ruby red jars were stored on wood shelves.
I recall the twinkle in grandma's eyes of blue,
Often, I take a drive to that farm that still dwells;
Outside the city where the pomegranates grew.
_________________________
April 29, 2016
Poetry/Lyric/Outside The City
Copyright Protected, ID 16-783-867-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Expectation rushes in
as her silent walk begins
All eyes staring,
watching for a hint of emotion,
but none revealed
as she takes her place among the muses
No one breathes as her studious eyes
examine the two-dimensional codes ...
Then silence breaks
as both hands spring into fantastical dance
on an ever-changing ivory and ebony stage
Mellifluous tones, conspicuously full and rich,
transport all on an uplifting emotional journey
Ears, minds, hearts, and lungs
feasting on delicious pabulum of spirit
Soon tortuous movements diminish
and fantastical dance declines ...
With final notes
striking harmonious chords
deep into our psyche,
our ethereal journey ends
as we gently land where we began
She pauses, then rises
to a cacophony of applause
All eyes staring,
watching for a hint of emotion as she exits,
but none revealed
save a quick glance and brief smile,
acknowledging her proud parents' pounding hearts
misting eyes and beaming faces
CHERRY PIE
I’m sitting here in my cool room
On a quiet rainy day
Spending my time reading
Thinking about Cherry pie
I’m feeling sleepy
Haven’t had much to eat
Cat is fast asleep in my recliner
I’m walking in my neighborhood
I’m letting my thoughts drift
I’m walking too far
I want to go back
I’m feeling lonely
Yesterday the sky was pale and grey
All I can see is a red cherry tree
I’m thinking about warm pie
Pie in the morning evening and night
But all I see a lonely pie tree
Cherry Pie so pretty the filling so hot and delicious
The fruit right off a tree
Cherry Pie fly here to me
And land in my kitchen
Be golden brown and hot
I could eat the whole thing
But the fruit of the filing
Is just so hard to find-I love Cherry Pie!
I spent my early life
Looking out from behind
The chain link fence on the turkey farm
There they fed me right
Fattened up my thighs
After all, what could be the harm
If it was up to me
I would never leave
It's where I prefer to spend my years
But alas will come the day
When all good turkey's have to say
Arrivederci...I am outta here
I was born to be a Butter Ball
Unlike those sloppy pigs that live next door
To be a tender turkey is my call
And all you want to do is eat me
Yes, you wanna eat me
They just took Turkey Jack
To the shed out back
Where we never heard from him again
Just like yesterday
With my friend Turkey Dave
Strange they haven't messed with Turkey Slim
Am I the next in line
Could this here be my time
My head placed on the chopping block
As I say my goodbyes
To all the gals and guys
I gobble to Mary Lou as an after thought
I was born to be a Butter Ball
So delicious they're coming back for more
Tenderized to the very core
All they want to do is eat me
I was born to be a Butter Ball
A slap in the face to the Honey Ham
To be a tinder turkey is my call
Heavy on the gravy with a side of yams
Now that you know my tale
I hope I told it well
Enjoy this day with your family and your friends
So remember then
Don't leave the stuffing in
And dinner will go the way that it was planned
I was born to be a Butter Ball
The highest honor of them all
Into the open oven I must fall
Cause all you want to do is eat me
Yes, all you wanna do is eat me
Again!?!
Will this madness ever end?!?