Long Leg of lamb Poems
Long Leg of lamb Poems. Below are the most popular long Leg of lamb by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leg of lamb poems by poem length and keyword.
They say you can tell what a person is thinking by the expressions on there face,
But what if all they are doing is smiling? What are they thinking then?
I like to sit in a garden of pure beauty, surrounded by flowers of every colour,
The sweet smell of roses, Red, pink, yellow, black and white,
With the thorns pricking out, not to hurt but a warning not to get to close.
Tree’s of soft pink cherry blossoms that smooth the touch,
An ocean glass and white gravel floor reflecting the light of sun
And in turn giving the flowers a more sparkling essence,
These are the things that make me smile.
I like the smell of a piping hot Sunday roast, not just on a Sunday,
The way the peas, carrots, Brussels, string beans and the rest of the vegetables look,
Boiling away, each in there own respective pans,
The thought of my leg of lamb cooking away idly sitting in the oven,
The smell driving me wild, playing on my taste buds , making my mouth water with desire,
Watching the Yorkshire puddings and stuffing balls rise to shape,
Looking ever more crunchy, then as I steer at perfection it only gets better,
As I pour on a helping of minted gravy,
These are the things that make me smile.
When I look into the eyes of my partner and see the sorrow she feels,
Knowing that I can make it all go away with a simple song and a slow dance,
And when I think of how hard she tries to make me happy,
Not knowing that just being there by her side is all I will ever need,
Just to know the fullest feelings of joy and love by just a small kiss to the forehead
While she sleeps and all the wonders of being a dad to the sweetest yet sometimes
Ungrateful children who’s constant smiles bring meaning to my life,
These are the things that make me smile.
So the next time you see someone smile and start to smile yourself,
Spear a moments thought to try and figure out why there smiling,
It may not always be pleasant or even good , but then again,
What can a simple smile hurt?
I love your acsent' it makes me want to kiss you!
16 fillet catfish/ or seabass
1/4 cup of McCormick seasoning
2 Tablespoons of garlic powder
2 Tablespoons of onion powder
3 tablespoons of cayenne pepper
mix well and set aside
1/2 cup of olive oil
1/2 melted butter
1/4 cup lime juice
coat both sides of each fillet with oil and butter
sprinkle seasoning atop
bake in a 350 degree oven until fish are flakey and done
8 cups of cooked cous cous( soaked in 1 cup of buttermilk)
3 cups of goats cheese
2 cups of heavy cream
2 cups of béchamel sauce
1/2 melted butter
1/2 cup of fresh chives
5 tablespoons of crushed garlic
2 cup of oven roasted turkey bacon ( cook into bits)
1/3 cup of diced fine green peppers (sautéed)
1/3 cup of crushed sun dried tomatoes
12/3 saute'd onion
1 & 1/2 cup of white cheddar
2 tablespoons of red pepper flakes
combine ingredients and bake for 25 minutes
slice fillets from a leg of lamb
about twenty slices
salt and pepper
grill (medium rare)
in a pan combine
1/3 cup of beef broth
1 cup of pomegranate juice
1/4 cup of honey
1/4 cup of lime juice
5 tablespoons of chopped rosemary
3 tablespoons of cayenne pepper
1/3 cup of sweet red wine
1 cup of unsalted pistachios
reduce sauce about half
add lamb and serve
FOR DESSERT
5 CUPS OF BROWNIE MIXED ( MIXED USING BOX RECIPE)
4 CUPS OF ANGEL FOOD ( USING BOX RECIPE)
24 DOLLOPS OF CREAM CHEESE
IN A GREASED NON-STICK MUFFIN PAN, SPOON IN TWO TABLE SPOONS OF BROWNIE MIX
AND LAYER IT WITH THE ANGEL FOOD MIX, (ABOUT 2 TABLESPOONS)
HALFWAY FULL ADD CREAM CHEESE
COVER WITH BROWNIE AND ANGEL FOOD MIX
BAKE UNTIL DONE, USING A TOOTH PICK TO CHECK
COOL MUFFINS, TOP WITH FAVORITE FROSTING AND SERVE
IN
WE BASSOON'D THE FOOD WAS DONE: SO WE ATE IT!
WE DRUMMED AND OBO'D THRU THE NIGHT
ASSUMING WE WOODWIND: WE DID!
WE DID !
THANKSGIVING LEFTOVERS
Thanksgiving has now come and gone,
But we’ve still got turkey by the pound,
So the question now becomes,
What leftover recipes can be found?
We can have turkey tetrazzini,
Turkey chili with lots of beanies,
Turkey chow mein,
Turkey with whole grains,
Cause we’re not thrilled by more turkey plain.
Turkey stacked on white bread, lots of mayo,
Turkey quite spicy doused with lots of Old Bay,
Pasta with turkey spaghetti sauce,
Turkey on a salad gently tossed,
And let’s not forget some turkey jerky.
Ben Franklin pushed the turkey for our national bird,
Cause turkey provided sustenance, that’s what he heard.
But he didn’t face the problem that confronts us today,
How do we make so much leftover turkey go away?
Turkey is quite versatile, Help us eat a pile,
Eat the neck, munch the gizzard,
So much white meat, it’s a turkey blizzard.
And let’s not forget the turkey liver,
That’s the part Grandma says to give her.
Our turkey didn’t fly the coop,
That’s why we’ll enjoy turkey noodle soup,
Turkey in the straw, turkey cole slaw,
Take my advice, try turkey fried rice,
Turkey pot pie, Got to give it a try.
How many days can one turkey last,
If we don’t get rid of these leftovers fast,
Then we’ll have turkey coming out our ears,
And we’ll eat turkey for a couple years.
Oh, no, I just remembered, Christmas is coming soon,
We can’t eat another turkey or we’re gonna swoon.
Guess instead we’ll serve ham, leg of lamb with mint jam, can of spam,
A dozen clams, with a side of yams and crackers of graham.
Anything but turkey!
I am in a quandary
I am in a fix
My life in a predicament
I wonder what will happen next
Nothing doth run smoothly
So often things go wrong
It would be so refreshing
For a new day to begin
with laughter and with joy
and a large double gin
And as the sun begins to rise
And blackbirds start to sing
I’m looking all around
for a dilemma to begin
Breakfast comes and goes
Not a burn upon the toast
For today this day be Sunday
I look forward to my Sunday roast
A gentle stroll along the prom
Before it starts to go all wrong
But people smile and for a while
I even burst into a song
Back at home the leg of lamb
Permeates my nostrils
Pink and succulent with roasties
tender carrots and parsnips
lots of lovely fresh mint sauce
complements the lamb of course
I sit and tuck into my meal
lamb melting in my mouth
This is my favourite Sunday roast
But then disaster doth approach
My left front crown I'd swallowed down
My day had begun
far too good to be true
I am starting to choke
I am turning bright blue
Alone am I ~ am I going to die
No one here to pat my back
I am in a pickle
I am in a jam
In such a tight corner
In a quandary is where I am…
Written 2nd October 2021
Contest "Q" contest
Sponsor Constance La France
2nd PLACE
Contest A STRAND 1054
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
It's only a paper-mache
moon, they say, too cool,
too full of interstellar space
to sympathize or stress about
lovers, kings and fools.
Or is it? According to Deutsch
the so-called final ignition
into outer space
is a product of man's meditations
moving, as if via gravitation
the magician to the other end
of the expanding universe. Sure,
in yr computer. Meanwhile, nursed
in a nursing home, mewling and peeing
as accurately predicted by Shakespeare
my old Marine, an ex-sailor, bitter
at life's ending, waited
too long to dispatch with dignity.
All alone, as in Corbiere's poem,
old soldiers are fated
to fight unnecessary wars
as we all are. Except for the fact that
every helium and hydrogen atom
ever born or made (whatever you believe)
has taken positions, passionate
and predetermined as republicans and dobermans
over eons and epochs. Thus
I don't think it behooves us much to care
if we're getting too little clean air or
bacteria are better adapted than us. This
obsession with identity, survival
a name and a leg of lamb is lame
even uninspired. The entire universe
including the professional baseball season
is canceled when yr dead. No blame.
Sunday roast
A meal I loved
for some time not partaken
When Ma was here
Well ~ oh my dear
Served on the dot at one o’clock
And woe betide if we were late
it would be on the table
upon our plate
and steaming hot
Whether we were there or not
Nowadays it’s just for one
Has somehow lost appeal
To sit alone now on my own
I really don’t enjoy
Those crispy roasted spuds
with golden Yorkshire puds
buttered carrots ~ roasted parsnips
on my plate roast leg of lamb
a generous dollop of minty sauce
with thick meaty gravy piping hot
Three cheers for the cook
Three cheers for the host
I can almost taste it ~ I can almost smell it
Ma always cooked the best Sunday roast
Now my grandson is a vegan
his girlfriend she is too
my granddaughter a veggie
oh what am I to do
I cannot beat them
so I will join them
nut roast now my Sunday roast
but I'm still yearning for the taste
of Ma’s on the dot at one o'clock
her Sunday roasts delectable
each mouthful unforgettable...
Written 4 July 2021
Contest A BRIAN STRAND JULY 4
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Underneath the tree so grand
Sit many boxes beautifully wrapped;
Packaged with discerning hands;
Gifts by God’s love enveloped.
Giving is the greatest blessing;
Far greater than to receive,
But at Christmas we enjoy both,
Except the very poor and grieved.
So let’s think about the needy,
This very special Christmas Day;
Give generously of food and gifts
To those in need and pray.
Pray for folk who are grieving,
When happiness should be their lot.
We often forget to pray for others;
Let your prayers not be forgot.
When the gifts have all been given
And the tree looks somewhat bare,
It’s time to enjoy the delicacies
That loving hands did prepare.
Whether it be roast turkey,Or a leg of lamb and gravy,
Let’s remember the hands of the Giver,
And the blessed Christmas story!
Let’s thank God for His Christmas gift;
The greatest gift of all time.
The gift of our shepherd and Savior,
Born so miraculously divine.
This is the real reason,
We celebrate at Christmas;
Give thanks for all our blessings
Of hope, peace, joy and happiness.
Maureen LeFanue
Mid Autumn, Saturday 6.30am
and daybreak is slowly climbing
over the back fence.
Frank O'Hara's poetry is still
echoing in my head from reading
it last night as I cook breakfast
of bacon and eggs.
Later I walk up the street
to the chemist to get
my blood pressure pills
and as I walk, compile arguments
against Postmodernism
and recognise that the notion of
the transcendental
sits at the centre of my beliefs.
I cannot abandon meaning.
Later, I prepare a leg of lamb
for baking along with potatoes,
pumpkin and carrots. Childhood
breaks through as I open
the oven door and a blast
of heat hits my face.
I am persuaded now
by the arguments
of the Universalist or else
there is nothing at all.
After dinner I sit quietly
with my wife. The evening
is coming on and the sound
of crickets filter in through
the front screen door.
I have much to be thankful for
but I feel sad. I am not sure
if it's just the early dark or having
to let go of the last line
of this poem and slip back
into the heavy silence
of myself.
Little Bo Peep,
Won't let me sleep....
Cause her G'arld darn sheep
Bray to keep,
Me forever awake in pain...
So in desperation,
I came up with a plan...
I'd buy and eat,
Naught but sheep,
To eradicate them from this world...
Lamb chops and eggs for breakfast
Double lamb chops and mint jelly for lunch,
Crown leg of lamb for dinner,
And more lamb chops,
And with my nightly TV, more
Lamb chops on which to munch...
For 16 years I kept this up,
My favorite movie,
Silence of the lambs,
When slowly I began to notice,
I was growing white fuzzy hair,
I began to bray sheepishly,
What more could I say?
I nibbled on the lawn
A neighbor shot at me at dawn
I grew hoofed feet,
Counted people jumping a fence
To aid in sleep
Slowly did I realize,
It was people sounds
That kept me up,
Now what do I do?
You can't order humans to go,
Or buy in a supermarket....
Guess I was doomed
To this sheepish life
So I'd better grow to like it!
Leg of lamb with rosemary
Herb sauce and berries
Mouth-watering aroma
Blend of paprika
Get a plate in haste
Such a great
Taste!
Nice!
Easter crust
Slice of delicious
Tasty gingerbread
Baked with touch a Easter wine
Going to my head
Ready to royally dine!
© Joseph, March 19, 2008
© All Rights Reserved
This poem about a delicious dish starts with the regular format of seven
syllables in the first line, and it progresses down to one syllable in the seventh
and last line. However, the second section starts with an inverse of the first
section, whereby the poem starts with the seventh and last line of one syllable
and ends with the first line of seven syllables. The form is 7/5/7/5/5/3/1/ and
inverse 1/3/5/5/7/5/7. This form was created by Joseph S. Spence, Sr.