Short Baked In Poems
Short Baked In Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Baked In by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Baked In by length and keyword.
pumpkin
baked in a pie
I smell cloves, and nutmeg
cinnamon, ginger and allspice
tasty!
Sizzling thoughts
baked in burning skulls,
sliced and served
in salvers white,
before starving minds!
Light from an open fire
that does not burn
and cannot be destroyed
great warmth of feeling
baked in a kilneternal welcome
home.
Two chubby pigeons sitting on a wall
One called Peter one called Paul
Reach for the rifle before they fly
Two juicy birds baked in a pie
Succulent Georgia peach pie
Fresh peaches sliced thin
Baked in tantalizing dough
Its aroma draws
Body and soul come
Taste and see
Sweet!
They say her beauty was sheer perfection
She sun baked in the beach's tourist section
Her swimsuit so thin
It let the sun in
Reveling all her snow white complexion
Plump, firm, and juicy -
Enticing summer delight,
Achingly luscious,
Captured from your soft tree swing,
Hacked up and baked in a pie.
The opals fire;
it burns so bright;
a gem to light our way.
Baked in Earth’s oven,
this spectre bright;
will never burn your skin;
it’s simply light-play.
This air,
Baked in
A purple haze
Bring cupped-hands
Filled with holy water
To the ancient shores of
This Gothic Cathedral
We flock to your sanctuary
Birds bring their benedictions to this altar
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
#Pie
Up down turn around pick a pan a bowl or two
turn a pock
turn a plum
spin baked in
Swirl the spoon, mix a pie batter to make a treat for you
Break the ties that bind me
Taught wire cutting through vibrant thoughts
soft texture of my mind ensnared
Dreams gushing blood
Like a big ball of dough in a small wire basket
Ready to be baked in the over
Fresh bread for them to feast on
finding dots, spots of glory
drawn upon satin-sheet-crisps
baked in apples and crated
to my inner thigh, memorized
by my tongue. splashes of thought
delicately trace a lone pillow case
where once we swallowed smitten
waves of wet sounds and empty graves
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thought there was a funny burning smell?
Four and twenty cherries baked in a fruit pie.
When the pie was opened it was found to be a lie.
There were 4 and 20 blackbirds, made yell!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My favourite food for New year
Vaselopita- Greek New Year's cake
Togetherness beaten in love, baked in celebration with icing of wit.
Written Nov 20th, 2015
For contest- "Food 2- holiday connections"
Sponsor- Andrea Dietrich
Awarded fourth place win
Marriage is an engagement,
Two minds agreement,
The bed playing the middleman,
A bed,the first debt in marriage for settlement,
Ring brings a debt,
The cake baked in debt,
Dress designed in debt,
Meals in merchants books of debt,
A marriage is said in life to set,
But in fact it's settlements of debts!
ottava rima
A rambling riddle; hope you'll play along...
Fingers when I have played too much cello.
Head, neck and shoulders baked in sun too long;
Zingers by Hostess and cherry jello.
Used with blue and white, patriotic song;
singers’ roses but not Texas yellow.
Hot pink is like my second fiddle;
strawberries are a key to this riddle.
In a world with billions,
Of colors bright and bold;
Color me azurite;
Malachite and lapis
Veined with golden pyrite;
Yes I am azurite.
I’m baked in the ground
Until I am found;
And I’m chipped away
From my mother’s womb;
Cut and set in gold.
Now color me
Expensive please;
These days I am
So very rare.
Over-mined,
Earth’s robbed blind;
So unfair.
Still a
Beauty;
I.
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)
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Can anyone tell me
How he got there at all.
A tisket a tasket
My brown and yellow basket
I took a paper to write a letter
But there was no pen in my casket
Four and Twenty black birds baked in a pie
I think if I would eat it
I would almost die
Gorgie Podgie pudding and pie
Kissed the girls and made them cry
So they all turned around, the ones who were shy
And put him in a hot oven to fry
Love’s Desert
You left me there, alone, empty,
baked in the seething heat of hate.
Dried petals screaming: “I love you not!”
blowing across a soundless nothingness,
faint echoes of a whimpering heartbeat
fading in the shifting dunes,
crushed beneath the beauty of love’s barrenness.
Alone, under the lifeless light of desert moon
I weep, my future a wavering mirage.
John G. Lawless
In The Desert – nette onclaud
9/14/2014
fee, fi, fo, fum
eenie, meenie, miny, mo...
absurdities abound
rubber buggy bumpers
for instance… or, blackbirds
baked in a pie… perchance
there's a fungus amungus...
eenie, meenie, desalini
ucha-a-wa'alini
hepta-minika-zokalini
doo-wa-diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-doo...
In honor of 'National Bad Poetry' day
(How'd I do-- D?)
Your sweet golden,
Brown Sugared, skin
adds A little spice,
to life, Destine,
to explore the nature,
of yours, I am nurtured,
and famished, With,
constant under standing,
why you are loved, so
Baked in by declaration,
of your lips, speaking genuinely,
Above and beyond, captured,
my hunger,
in complete ness,
To never let go,
because you complete me, to
continue, As I Spill The Beans,
that pour through your words,
Among mine, to become one...
Rolling, rolling over the waves of swine
Black flour and sour milk combine
In Circe’s meat filled doughy pies
Filled with death and Ulysses men’s horrific cries.
The Queen was left to go untied
Moving out to sea she died
Past ghosts recovering lost saints
Rescued as floating foamy crumbling flakes
In blood-soaked waters
Ulysses saved, his mind all a shake
His men were drawn and baked in quarters
But he is still alive and much awake
Finest mills of flours
sprinkled species from silky road
Tears of cloud water the dough
raised in crescent moon
Shaped history mending
tender forgiveness
become alive from dust again
Baked in wood fire
gently touching my tears
Sweet taste of soul
hinges set you free
Walked in streets
with my cookie basket
Give away my mate
Let him free as fly
Wish and wait to comeback
in dressing skin raised from dust
James to whom my imaginary friend