Pantry Poems | Examples

In The Pantry Where Secrets Dwell

In The Pantry Where Secrets Dwell
A story now I’ll softly tell.
Of moments lost to time’s embrace,
And passions found in hidden space.

A touch of hard, cool, and wet,
A memory of joy I won't forget.
With every glide, with every thrust,
It wakes the senses and stirs up lust.

On the counter top, a fiery sheen,
Reflects desires, pure and keen.
A silent partner at day and night,
Brings pleasure’s peaks, intense delight.

No judgment, just open heart,
Deeply exploring, every part.
With moans and gasps of glee,
It gets me slowly into ecstasy.

In the drawer, it might reside,
This trusty friend I do not hide.
For in its form, I find release,
A journey’s end, a moment’s peace.

So here’s to nights when shadows fall,
To moments shared, desires are small.
A wet embrace, a lover’s toy,
In a quiet room, it brings me joy.

radio phone-in, how are you saving money at xmas - calls cost 3 pounds 50 per minute

they've also got a guest on
who suffers from, the inability to burp

he sounds so bored presenting
the thing

as i listen, i notice 
the lid of the jar of the piccalilli

it states this condiment is,
'the life and soul of the pantry'

on google i look up images
of 19th century pantries

my wife comes in and asks what i 
would like for xmas

i want a pantry

A Losing Country

The fate of a losing country
One first observes in her gentry.
Parents lock kitchens, mount sentry;
The food-craving child bared entry.

Yep, the fate of such a country
I have espied in her pantry:
A family in quandary,
From soap men withholding laundry,
The neatly washed not primary
The well-ironed secondary...

On the roads of losing country
Often, unauthorized sentry:
Rich cars stopped soon after entry:
You won't want jobs sedentary...

In every damned losing country
Economic weather: wintry;
Foreign investors slow entry.

Follow-Up To '**** Pantry'

I know a family that doesn't have much
  But their small abode is spotless
    You can eat off their floors

  'Course that makes them 'classist and racist'
  The home in which they take such pride 
    ~ a veritable eyesore

'pantry ****'

'Pantry ****' writes Professor Denton
    is a crusade that she's been sent on
  to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt
    that she's an ignorant, stupid lout 

  She claims that tidy pantries and manicured lawns
    are 'racist and sexist structures' upper-crust society is based on
  Well, Ms. Denton, if you'd ever lived in a lower-class neighborhood
    you'd know instinctively what utter bull-roar your claims rest upon

Pantheon Pantry

dissident drive in
transcellular circumstance
chromosome causes
proton personalities
organic typhon swallows

New Eyes For the Old

Rose knows little about her country.
Far few women do from the pantry
And still fewer,when it gets wintry...

So,she begrudges not the gentry
And challenges not mounted sentry.

Doesn't know about Oprah Winfrey,
Concentrating on their church's Belfry;
Her broadest smiles for Vicar's entry.

It's an old heart for modern poultry,
Her birds leaving when heat is sultry
For her fondest film on Gallantry
Or,if she's loaned it out,Pageantry.

Eyes dancing for just the old pictures:
What would they do to modern cultures?

Fools Pantry

The joker fields the first laugh
as satans pantry recalls
all those loud antics
Release is in the eye
A fools errancy prevails
enrapturing your soul
Vacating the easy chair
because I've had my share
Ministers admonish you
watch for celebrity  fools
on the TV screens glare
as the moon gazes
looking for any other sphere

Nancy's Pantry

Once was this famous chef named Nancy
Guys were always trying to get in her pantry
But her salt and pepper
Caused sneezing peckers
Her meals were amazing and whatta chassis

The Pantry

I looked at my pantry,
then I glanced at theirs.
In the event of an emergency,
their pantry was more prepared.
They would still have enough food to last them a full year's time,
after I had exhausted all of mine.
My pantry would be empty long before the pantry of my felines.

Nancy's Pantry

Once was this famous chef named Nancy
Guys were always trying to get in her pantry
But her salt and pepper
Caused sneezing peckers
Her meals were amazing and whatta chassis

Nancy's Pantry

Once was this famous chef named Nancy
Guys were always trying to get in her pantry
But her salt and pepper
Caused many sneezing peckers
Her meals were amazing and whatta chassis

My Pantry

My Pantry

I have a kitchen pantry,
Narrow though it is,
Still contains some sterno,
For the millennium’s world’s end.

I’ll not tell you how long ago
Its contents got organized,
And the blue shelf liner, wrinkled now,
Would have won a magazine prize.

Its door has an old-fashioned hook,
Due to the settling of the house,
Open it to a bin of birdseed,
And protection against a mouse.

There’s are extra cans of tomato sauce,
Some chili and some peas, and
When I get inspired, I can
Cook with one of these.

Impulse buys like dry mashed potatoes
And cans of stuff I don't even like,
But they were on sale, weren't they?
Thought I'd use those down the pike.

Now you’ve gone and done it,
It’s gonna get culled again
Lots of things to the church center,

But not that sterno can!

There Was a She-Ghost In Elly's Pantry

There was a she-ghost in Elly's pantry
                           She loved cold meat and a lavish entree
                                       With the pass of dawn
                                        She ate a tiger prawn
                        And jumped over the broomstick with a gentry

On the Pantry Shelf

She sneaked into the pantry, tender steps came from behind 
His charismatic twinkle took her heart completely by surprise
And in a speck of time, a secret kiss to follow
As fate joined them together, forever in tomorrow

Through the years she won't forget the day he called her near
To tell her that he'd written a song that only she would hear
Timeless is the butterfly-and goes where we know not-
As fleeting chance encounters create a solid bond

His timely passing left her hollow
Now gripped with grief she struggles to swallow
And always returns to haunt her again
To go on alone, her free will had chosen

Now and then she whispers, but only to herself
That somewhere in another time 
He'll complete the songs he left behind
On the pantry shelf 



Written by Karen Anglesey
Published in Theatre of the Mind
Noble House Publishers/Individual Copyright holders/2003

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