Short Baked Poems
Short Baked Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Baked by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Baked by length and keyword.
Salmon marinated in
terriaki sauce
Sauted, and then baked fully
with vegetables
serve over white rice,
Delicious
Yea!
Form:
Minced garlic with tomato,
onion and pepper,
thick, cylindrical pasta
Mozzarella topped--
seared until golden.
Robust yet
sweet!
Blue ribbon excellence she said with glee
Judging a cherry pie made just for me
Crust as sweet and flaky as it should be
I love the baked goods of my cousin Vee
No meat ever tasted like
Grannie’s home-baked ham.
Sweetest right next to the bone.
Savory some say.
I like it most with
a side of –
more!
Make it cold and bake it hot
Fresh baked bread delights
Fresh from the oven buttered
Senses dance a reel
Happy palate sings
My tummy
Smiles!
I sat on what we have always called our marked bench and smoked.
Just wish you were here with me, because we could have toked,
The sad thing is I only wish you would be a little more stoked.
The witch’s words begin to cackle,
her jargon hard to understand.
With grace adding in the taste,
style matters most of all.
Don’t believe a thing.
Parlor effects,
that’s magick
cauldrons
bake.
Birds baked in pies, babies rocked out of trees
Kids all falling down from some dreadful disease
Young Hansel and Gretel
May wind up in a kettle
What tormented minds write stories like these?
12/4/22
Baked My Bread With So Much Sorrow
Had baked my bread with so much sorrow;
Some of yours will surely want to borrow;
Desire possess;
Bread caress;
So I must eat now before stale tomorrow.
Jim Horn
monks once used egg whites
to starch their habits crisp clean
dumping yellow yolks ~
but a waste not want not pledge
inspired a baked custard tart
in an act of grace
their heavenly recipe
was kept secret sold
Sometime apple pies
Run and Hide
You don't want to be eaten
Peeled apples roll around
Once a seedling
In planted in the ground
Flour, cinnamon, nutmeg other ingredients...
Mixed and placed in the oven
9/16/19
ah, the smell of bread!
freshly baked
yum! mouth-watering...
Baker's Dozen Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
5/3/5 Syllable Count
Date written and posted: 10/13/2018
Apples baked
Create delicious
Edible food,
Gracious heaven
Intervenes joy,
Knowing luscious
Moistness,
Never overpowering,
Plain quenching
Richness,
Surrendering to
Undeniable visions,
While Xeroxing,
Youthful zeal
Please my friend, don't stop
Don't stop the music of your mind
Don't stop the dance of your soul
I will join you in love, together in unity
In creating words bigger for the screen
In peace our words will be louder than screams
Crisp oven bacon
baked next to homemade biscuit
drenched in syrup
morning breakfast dish
potato
covered in gravy
Lune Poetry poem
3/5/7 Word Count
5/3/5 Syllable Count
1/26/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
They tease me,
Vying for my attention
Behind the bakery display case.
Voluptuous, some bursting with fruit,
The brazen, the coquettish,
They tease me.
Which to pick?
The Austrian strudel or Danish
Vying for my attention?
Impetuously taking her
In my car, from
Behind the bakery display case.
While sitting at the kitchen table my spirit;
Embarks listening my nose for the baked biscuit;
I am invested so heavily in simplistic tradition;
Hot baked buttered fresh out the oven wicket;
Grandma told me and grandpa get out the skillet;
Cause that chicken and gravy for Christmas;
12/30/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Promised a honey baked life by Uncle Sam,
a V.A. loan, and a mini-van.
Three kids and a fenced yard.
It should be attainable to those who
worked so hard.
They served, they sacrificed as mother's wept,
came home to be forgotten to a government
that's inept..
Our unsung hero's who fought gallantly, are
supposed to be our nations first priority..
To cook a baked potato
You need lots and lots of time –
Enough to write a longer poem
Than this, and all in rhyme.
Mitch Hedberg,* in his deadpan way,
Joked with exaggeration –
Toss a spud into the oven and
Just go off on vacation.
He may be right – I baked one,
Eighty minutes by the clock,
But my husband took a bite and it
Was harder than a rock!
*one of my favorite comedians
You open up the kitchen door,
Aromas surround you you want more,
Fresh bread bakin some are done,
Can't wait to taste them everyone,
Mom makes the bread most everyday,
She makes them special just her way,
The flour flies, as she kneads,
The special method, of her deeds,
The steam from slicing, is a dream,
I know this much, I could scream,
The bread is ready so am I,
Dark brown bread, butter on rye.
Form:
When you bake these tubers unearthed from the ground,
many ways to stuff them can be found.
Onions, peppers, chives, and mushrooms can please.
How about cheddar, Monterey jack, or blue cheese?
Fill them with chili, bacon bits, or sour cream.
Butter with salt and pepper is good, it would seem.
There are other ingredients. Anyone can dream.
One of the most versatile foods is the potato.
Dress it up. Let your imagination flow.
Poetry — Easy
Poetry — Hard
Words — To Decide
Truth — Zero Sum
**********
Free To Disagree
We don’t always agree
but are free to take issue
With differing minds
— that our Founder’s defend
**********
First & Last
Say something ...
with every word
spoke or then written
heard or unheard
With every word
free a new moment
Eternally prescient
— divorcing from time
(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)
Sweet and savoury,
Smothered in rich tomato sauce,
Adding a pinch of spices like cumin, pepper and garam masala ;
Brings in a great combination of flavour and aroma,
Making baked beans smell so wonderful.
Healthy and super delicious,
Utterly addictive and irresistible,
Quick and easy breakfast,
Love to have it with Dejeunette Viennoise and Croissant along with a bite of cutlet,
One of my favourite morning delights on the dining table.
Poverty Slop and
jowls of ground beef.
Saliva to corn
that's creamed to belief.
Mashed silk potatoes
spread over the tongue
sealing meat in
to covered and mung.
Tin pan the Shepherd.
A pie sitting heavy.
A feast for a King
and the bowels of a levy.
Full potted tummy.
A growling way down.
Back taste of kernels.
A hunger been drown.
Baked Shepherd's Pie
asleep in the oven.
Morning to eyes
like those of the sloven.
form
in to inflate
soon as my
arm release
the grip from the plate
my pen prolonged
to my heart
have faith
again
i'm the start
and end of a trace
bounce ockward
counts in dark with
sheeps in my dream
boil cause i was
strip of my fate
cooked. cause i was well
over black
baked because when you hurt me i just
stood there and sat
fried cause my skin
is puffy
from all the crabs
i ate
which i'm allergic too.
ain't that crap