Short Aluminum Foil Poems
Short Aluminum Foil Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Aluminum Foil by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Aluminum Foil by length and keyword.
There once was a buff metal coil
whose gal was aluminum foil.
She was his sunshine.
He sprang for the wine,
all's swell 'till they run out of oil.
i can smell her chocolate and peanut butter as i enter the grocery store
do you smell that?
sweet salty Reeses peanut butter cups
i envision myself unwrapping her aluminum foil
bite sized?
heck no!
Being a dragon hoarder is now work at all
I collect tidbits of aluminum foil, rolled and tall
I have boxes and bags full of things from the mall
Items also I have found in a bathroom stall
Being a dragon hoarder is what I do best.
I bring stuff home, and plunk it down in my nest.
I collect wings, feathers, animals, especially little mice.
Who grow up and reproduce, so isn’t that nice?
Fish madam?
Price Edwards a Welsh man taught me how to poach eggs fish and rabbits
The recipe for poached eggs is universal
Poached perch is.....Take fillets and cheeks saute in butter with a dash of mead
Poached trout........Wrap in aluminum foil with herbs.. throw in small fire
Poached rabbit.....Debone saute in olive oiland butter...add mushrooms and leek
Poached venison I’ve never tried
Thank you for tender flesh so sweet
Uniquely known for your dark meat
Risen to fame as a rare treat
Known as sticks that are fun to eat
Each person asks for a repeat
Year after year, you face defeat
Lovingly fried in hot peanut oil
Eaten quickly before you spoil
Gobs of grease on aluminum foil
Save us from high cholesterol.
they are yours
and mines;
the hard-boiled
cookery of virtuous noise.
a polyphony wrapped
in aluminum foil
on a tedious shelf
w/bits of mythic statuary,
petite reliquary
of gastronomic demise,
and jars of jazz
sit motionless,
mummified
in gifted dishes.
they are the cool
epistemologies
that gel I the mixing bowl of life
that sudden slap
in the face of time
and the subsequent freeze.
best Halloween was in 1962
I was a fairy with silver tinseled wings
felt angelic in virginal white shiny gown
aluminum foil wand looked fancy
I felt pretty maybe for the first time
be a lady my mother said
but two boys tried to take my candy basket
I clunked them both over the head with it
mothers called my mother
I dreaded hearing the phone ring
thought I was in trouble
proud you stood up for yourself Mom said
Cooking with garlic and oil
Chopping peppers and chives
Crinkling aluminum foil
Running water over dirtied knives
Cutting boards strawberry stained
Slicing apples and poaching pears
Steamy facials from pasta drained
Sizzling pops like lightning flares
Piping a French buttercream rosette
Cracking eggs with no loose shell
Waiting for lime jello to set
But nothing beats the most delicious smell
The scent of vanilla
they were reading our minds, grandma
who? she asked, concerned
the aliens!
The ones from planet X474Z!
She knew they were having fun with their Uncle Larry.
He had a knack for making life fun.
She remembered when she asked him to watch his sister's children.
Now here he was, sitting around in an aluminum foil hat.
Not Planet X474Z! Grandma yelled.
She ran off screaming.
Delighting her grandchildren.
Completing their perfect day.
Back in the day we had a maypole on May Day
We created May baskets out of doilies and construction paper
I loved adding bits of ribbon, aluminum foil and glitter.
We decorated them like Valentines boxes.
Filled them with tiny candies popcorn and violets.
It was fantastically fabulous, and I loved it!
Why did I have maypoles and May baskets?
Was it because I lived in a small town? Was it because of my mother?
Was it because we knew all of our neighbors back in the day?
A poem is like the ripples in a pond,
As the muted sound.
Like the reflection of the sun on an aluminum foil,
As the muddy soil.
Like a rain drop,
Dry as the desert crop.
Like the myriad colors in a shaft of light,
As the imagination takes flight.
Motionless like the shifting sand,
As a marauding band.
Like the glimpse of a familiar face in a milling crowd,
As the flash of lightning in a foreboding cloud.
It should grab you like a snare
As a shooting flare!