Siblant esses slyly sneaking
doubling your portion size
turning singular to plural
as you order beer and pies
so don't become at every meal
fat, like a snake that ate a wagon wheel
Categories:
mealtimes, holiday,
Form: Rhyme
Always later than I'd like, richness in their cells when ripe
Backberry with Apple pie delight, once to taste is not my style
I've also found them there, at times and whiles, and tasted also before
I'm home.' and now I've opened up the tome, the one on puddings; basin filled.'
Mullberry and plum, raspberry and kiwi, gooseberry and Logan
Make pages of colour, that one could dote on' But I'll admit and without
Duress, blackberries in August are the very best, their deep rich taste
Is always smooth, enhancing many mealtimes; theyre comfort imbued.'
The pot is on; the apples peeled, blackberries tender swiftly yeild
Aroma rich, perfumes the air; there are paintings of them on my spiral stair
All in all, I must profess they are a real forte; in culinary prowess.'
Categories:
mealtimes, appreciation, beautiful, celebration, food,
Form: Rhyme
Can't get to sleep
Wake up too late
Afternoon snooze
Mealtimes confused
Yet when I get up early
All day I'm surly
Overeat, stuff my face
I'm in a bad place...
What? You're jealous of me
'Cos I sleep 'til 9:33
And at breakfast I tarry
Over waffles with blueberries
Well then! Life's not so bad after all
~ Didn't realize I was having a ball
Categories:
mealtimes, food, fun, retirement, sleep,
Form: Couplet
It’s magic at mealtimes the way she transforms;
the back legs defy all the physical norms.
She springs into action with vertical leaps;
there must be some kangaroo in there down deep.
She bounces like pogos have replaced her feet;
she’s getting that nose up to six feet or more.
A helium balloon can hardly compete;
I’m telling you, man, this pup really can soar!
Categories:
mealtimes, dog, food,
Form: Quatrain
I don’t know about you but I think it right
That kids should eat at the table, most every night.
Sit down with mum, sit down with dad
For these are the best memories you’ll ever have.
There will come a time and it creeps up fast,
When past days are gone, for they never last
When you will wish those days were back
When there is something in your life, you will forever lack.
It had been tradition, it had always been
But today at mealtimes children are never seen
They sit with their takeaways on their lap
Whilst the video games will, their attention sap!
And these days parents are forced to compete
With mobiles phones as their offspring tweet
For conversation at mealtimes may well be lost
And the lack of table manners will be the cost!!
Categories:
mealtimes, culture,
Form: Rhyme
for Grace Haven
1908 - 1998
Bits are all I have of Grandma now;
a table, a plate, a tall brown pitcher
that held buttermilk
for more than one generation's mealtimes;
a vase, a painting, a miniature cup and saucer,
bought for her on a trip to Seattle
when Mom was fifteen
and I was still seven years in the future.
After so much time spent in Grandma's house
the bits are as familiar as the scarf she wore
when she baked Sunday cookies.
Bits are all I have of Grandma now~
bits that linger like scent
in her empty Evening in Paris perfume bottle.
Categories:
mealtimes, family, grandmother, memory,
Form: Free verse
In the year 2319, we can only imagine how and what life will be,
Will there still be families, or just a pooled incensed, breeding sea,
Of writhing, intoxicated humans, clocking in for their lunch hour,
Trying to reproduce and gaining ten more points towards power!
Will mealtimes be as we know them today, or just merely queuing?
For a measly tablet which you must have daily, chewing thus renewing,
Your stamina to surf the planets at a graceful, fiercely unimaginable
Pace, you must be in Planet Venus by 8 docks, o’clock, fashionable!
As you arrive darkness greets you, your spirit, your being generates light,
Only on those you want to see or places that you long to be in spite,
Of the fact that if you stay too long, you sky home will be auctioned,
And your brain scrambled, and laid to rest, without been cautioned!
No rules, no policies, no systems, no charge, no one to give any rating,
Just chaos, and the thought of inhuman elimination, your clone is waiting,
And inherits your looks, your character, your wired and messed up brain,
And this clone will be cycled and recycled for the same to begin all over again!
Categories:
mealtimes, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
Will He Ever Sleep.
I sleep in William Thompson’s room,
he moans and gurgles in the gloom,
I’m often woken with a start
to the deafening thud of my own heart.
Like me, William worked away,
we’d nod in passing when he’d stay.
A man known for his thrifty chat,
alone at mealtimes, always sat.
An untouched breakfast at his chair,
no thumping work boots on the stair,
on holiday, perhaps he’d forgot
To inform the B&B, I thought.
I sleep in William Thompson’s bed,
he doesn’t realise he’s dead.
Five years hence he passed away
and still keeps coming back to stay.
09/12/2016
(Scare Me Good)
Categories:
mealtimes, assonance, fear, horror, memory,
Form: Rhyme
Working in a nursing home can be fun,
those darling old folks sure have me on the run,
like Mrs. Butt who says, I need to brush my boots,
or the nice old man, Huckerbee, who calls is salad roots.
Oh dear, my sciences are blocked cries Sadie,
she is sweet but her mind is just a little too scary,
at mealtimes she is always looking for salt for her tea,
she likes to wander up and down the halls following me.
It may be a pigment of my imagination,
but I am exhausted, must be time for vacation,
after I chase them down, I lay them down to sleep,
each dear soul safe under a pure white hospital sheet.
And as I turn off the light, a soul is praying,
blessed at thou, Frail Mory . . . .
________________________
June 27, 2013
Poetry/Rhyme/Hail Mary
Copyright Protected, ID 06-488-930-27
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Categories:
mealtimes, old,
Form: Rhyme
In this day of widespread obesity
THE TALE OF TOM
no!
but why?
he was kind
and so thoughtful
didn’t strut around
like so many I know
all the little ones loved him
i must say though he was so fat
he should have watched himself at mealtimes
just see how he overlaps the platter
Categories:
mealtimes, health
Form: Etheree
The Reaper looks ever so poorly
The Reaper looks ever so grim
But then it is hardly surprising
He really is terribly thin
With his job there’s no time for dinner
He looks like he’s dead on his feet
He really is ever so busy
And doesn’t get much time to eat
It’s about time he had an assistant
Some help is what’s needed, and quick
If he does not start, looking after himself
He’s going to end up quite sick
So if his employers are listening
And they don’t want to get into trouble
Make sure he takes all his mealtimes and breaks
But do it tout suite, at the double
Categories:
mealtimes, deathtime, time,
Form: I do not know?
Dear Lord and Lady:
I thank Thee for the gifts of life;
I thank Thee for the gifts of death.
May I be ever mindful
Of the souls who share
My coursing blood, my freshening breath.
Categories:
mealtimes, dedication, devotion, faith,
Form: Rhyme
Grandma is sleeping in her bed
one of her thin hands
lies on the quilt
with long, beautiful fingers
Her bed is in an empty room
nobody there
except a young lady from the past
with long, beautiful fingers
Grandma can't speak or sing
she can't even see a thing
still she has thin hands
with long, beautiful fingers
The young lady used to sing
she used to speak cheerfully
cook delicious food for mealtimes
with her long, beautiful fingers
Grandma is sleeping in her bed
her long, beautiful fingers on the quilt
out fly three white doves
not true beauties, just shadows
Categories:
mealtimes, lifebeautiful, beautiful,
Form: Free verse
I go to the gym twice a week in a bid to lose my tum,
try and get some muscles and perhaps slim down my bum
all are a big incentive, though another one for me
are the complex mix of people that at the gym you see
The twenty something bicep boy, a proper alpha male
who couldn't be more monkey like, if he had a tail
the pretty, perfect model, who glows but never sweats
quick to say she's healthy but at mealtimes just forgets
the group of golden oldies who jog along in pairs
trying to outrun their peers who're wheeled around in chairs
the larger than life contenders who'd rather really snack
they sweat and blow and get so red they risk a heart attack
amid all these characters there's little normal me
an almost thirty Mum of two, what you get is what you see
Many types of people all with a common goal
be happy, fit and healthy, improvements body and soul
and so I keep my appointment as fitness I do seek
I get so much entertainment here It lasts me for a week!!!
Categories:
mealtimes, sports, people, people, mum,
Form: I do not know?