Picky Poems

Picky Eater Hugh

I do not like peanut butter, potatoes, cheese or chocolate said Hugh
To other foods I suggested, he rapidly replied “ooooh”.
I could tell by face, they were not a favorite in any way.
This was an eye-opener for me, his grandma, this day.

He was supposed to stay with us a week what could I do?
No foods in

Picky Nose

   I used to love to pick my nose.
   After 3,
   Better than playing with my toes.
   With a nose you see,
   Each little crevasse has a surprise for me!
   A goober,
   A booger.
   Nothing I would find amiss.

Picky Vicky

Once knew a girl named Vicky
She was an eater so picky
Till one fine day
Humble pie she ate
With homeless kids from the city

a persnickety picky boss snake

pink faerie was assigned to the bug garden
there was a snake too, his name was Arden.
He was persnickety, picky and bossy too.
You certainly live up to your striped hue.

What do you mean? Arden asked in a snotty way.
He was irritated by the bugs and flies who wanted to play.
You are kind of bossy, but in

Picky Giraffes

The two giraffes lean over and lick.
Well, this is not the dinner we pick.
How about chocolate cake?
It is easy to make.
You make it with leaves, dirt, and a stick!

Not As Picky As I Thought She Was

If I was hungry I would devour that creepy thing I think.
It is something tasty that crawled out of my sink
You don’t even know what it is my friend says.
She is persnickety and picky, my pal Inez.

Look at its legs, I reply. They look tickly tasty.
Not so fast! Says the crawler. Let’s not be hasty!
Inez

Picky Eaters

being fed rubbish

remember there is no spoon





                                                

The Picky Drinker

coffee
It's bitter.
PepsiCola
Too Sweet
Diet Cola
Terrible After Taste
Lemonade
It depends on who makes it
Sweet tea
Yuk.
Regular tea
Only when it's hot,
and I am picky
about the brand
Alcoholic beverages
Watch me throw up
Okay water it is
Smooth, cold, crisp
clean water
But out of the tap please
No bottled junk for me.

I Am Not Picky

Some say I’m picky.
I say I’m not.
I won’t eat raw noodles out of the pot,
But watch me scarf them down when they’re piping hot.
Wait a second.
I change my mind.
Today I don’t like noodles.

Some say I’m crazy.
I say that’s true.
I do not care if any of my clothes match, or my shoes.
I don’t even care if

Me Picky

Picky?  Heavens, I’m certainly not.
I just ate pigs feet out of the pot.
French fries are a bit yucky, so I don’t eat them,
But I’m ready to try a little crème’ de’la Cream.
Potato salad? Ugh! Not for me.
Just give me some turkey breast to go with my tea.
Turkey is actually the only meat I’ll try.
The

Picky, Tricky and Sticky

Picky, Tricky and Sticky

You were so picky
Wrapping up gifts was tricky
Use nothing sticky.

Jim Horn

My Gift wrapping haiku.

Picky

Picky child I was
before & still am as
I’m writing this
picky, petite poem –

I am different
now…I’ve changed for
the better, though
it was a challenging
chore
Clever and cheery
teenager I am in the
present and past,
getting used to
foods I once didn’t
adore 
Kangaroos hop with
hope happily, tigers
hunt wildly &
sneakily, cats meow
for people food & to
receive a feel-good
rub  (independent,
little &
companion-like),
dogs yap for
attention
(dependent,

Picky Eaters

This poem was inspired by Dr. Mehta's poem on Childhood Obesity.


Our Mom made us sit and sit
Until we’d eaten every bit
She said “there’s starving kids in China
Africa and Asia Mina”
We kids said then send it to ‘em
Broccoli, spinach – we don’t do ‘em
But Mom, she would have none of that
So all us kids just sat

Picky & His Momma

His Momma always thought that she'd go first.
Her health it appears had been terminally cursed.
Her dog was a great source of comfort for her.
Picky was her baby all would concur.
Picky was her constant loving companion,
never leaving Momma's side when she was bed ridden.
Momma always thought Picky would be there by her bedside
up to that final

Thanksgiving's Picky Boy

He passed on turkey, passed on ham
and even on Mom’s candied yams!

He passed, for sure, on salad greens
and carrots, peas and lima beans!

He passed on Mom’s best home-baked bread
and cheeses ready to be spread.

The gravy and the mashed potatoes:
Those he passed on - and tomatoes.

Mom then served desserts; we knew
he’d pass on pie and ice

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