Short Cast Iron Poems
Short Cast Iron Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cast Iron by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cast Iron by length and keyword.
Old Uncle Jack while sampling the fine cooking of his still,
Was knocked out cold by the cast iron skillet of Aunt Jill.
eggshell dreams
porcelain heart
cast iron sky
5/12/2019
MAY 2019 PREMIER 4 Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Sponsor
Welshcakes
Stolen straight from the bakestone*
Was a taster we all proclaimed
* cast iron griddle
Penned 5 November 2015
“Wake up, breakfast is cooking.”
Bacon in cast iron skillet,
sounds and smells, wafted through the tent.
“Coming”, the crackling bacon got me!
There's my cast iron Dutch oven pot,
Sitting on the counter, still dirty.
Word is, "Don't wash", or it will rust rot.
Old fat increases its purity.
Butter sauté vegetables
in cast iron pan.
Add chicken and A1 sauce.
Heat up with cayenne.
Then toss with almonds.
Spoon in bowls
CRUNCH!
8/8/2018
A withered hand,his body frail
Where once formidable strength
had been,
He still had a cast iron will,
but there was so much
that stroke had stolen
By: J.N.R Dutton
There is a holy man with
A heart like a bell
That rings out loud
Through the air,
Like a ship with a sail
Made of cast iron and steel
Listen to the sound everywhere
Lord, my heart is a bell
I am Iron Man Seven/Eleven.
How's it feel to have arms of steel?
A cast iron head, and a rock hard bed.
I am ready to go to sleep right now.
Nighty-Night....
Short Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..ALL rights reserved..
cast iron monster
belching smoke and steam
small hands enfolded
framed beneath
glassine perfection
quietly staring
strange world streams by
silent but for noise
engine screams
arrival ahead
grandparents standing in snow
Christmas awaits
To Huskey we go, a cookout for dinner,
With six grandchildren, a definite winner.
The evening cool, the fire pit hot,
Some soup heating up in a cast-iron pot.
Seems life’s pretty sweet here in Lacey’s Spring;
Lottery? Nah, I’ve done won the whole thing.
There’s nothing quite like
The smell of a cast iron
Wood fired cook stove
On a chill Kentucky morning
Brewed coffee, platter of eggs
Pork chops and bacon
Hint of wood smoke scent
And ashes…Rosin and Pine
And a wee lad to savor these
…Future memories of mine…
Furnances, cast-iron, will wrought a deadly terrain;
The mulling of our spirit has
Juggled words of gods out of our mouths
While we hide like moths,
Thus life begins an affair with a new universe
Where furnances are allowed
To crawl the garden grounds
as our hearts watch
Aflame with plummage.
CHRISTMAS EVE
Midnight bells
Now close
Now far
They quake the old boards
Shivering up the steeple
Cast iron
Fired to last three thousand years
Drone ‘cross a sleeping countryside
Bells!
Bells!
Brother Johning round the Moon
And on the moment dark windows
Light-up!
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Winter on Astor Street
The Gold Coast, Chicago
Beneath the canopy,
a doorman holds
a cast-iron door that lets
an ancient duchess issue.
Swathed in a silver gown
she tugs her sable cape
tight around a tumor
that nice young doctor
will announce tomorrow.
Donal Mahoney
barter for the bellmaker
fire the forge, fill the flue
cast cast-iron chimes
chime for time's renew
fire the forge, fend the flash
fan the flames, feed the fire
cast cast-iron cauldrons
cast a spell, catch desire
bitter for the bellmaker
fires the forge, fans the same
casts cast-iron tears
cannot catch desire's flame
There will come a cast iron rain
in brown paper sackfuls
carried by frail, dark men
who never share your eye.
And when that day comes,
the skies will tremble,
smiling into hairline cracks
at the seams, awaiting
the drum of an enormous
wooden spoon, old
as Grandfather Mountain
and nimble as time
leaping like a cut-glass trout
in your still, hazel stream.
Quickly the hikers rest with a freshly built ----------CAMPFIRE
One of them flips out his ancient cast iron -------- PAN
Soon, fresh smells permeate the woods, something is --------- FRYING
Having trekked and snacked on dates and raisins, so ---------- TASTY
Smiles now appear as they now sample --------- BACON
I squint just right
And capture a memory almost forgotten
Jars of fruit and honey fresh from hives
Filling shelves in old smokehouse
Home-made butter and molasses
In her kitchen
Waiting to smother
Biscuits warming
On black cast iron wood-stove
Boxes of buttons
An old cameo
Split wood in corner
Old sleepy dog on porch
The house on the hill
Where Mom's Granny rocked
16Feb14
life goes on
cool as an angels kiss
requires a crackling fire
moderator of my world
held in a cast iron stove.
first admission that seasons
are fickle, change inevitable,
rolling on through time
never quite the same.
gazing out through sheltering glass
my mind touches all that is familiar
trees, garden of drowsy flowers
up the path to the red door.
wherein I wait for…
When the setting sun settles
Upon the weeping western skies
That's when I earn my medals
Hearth fires from smoldering eyes
Crystalline orbs glow like rare art
Gemstones shine light on my eyes
Mining ore from cast-iron heart
Molten metal melts the skies
Smelting, my weeping western eyes
Gemstones spark life in my heart
Heavy metal forged from her skies
Casts raw iron into art
Soil with sabrino, boil with babinoes white
Fire of witches, fire with switches bright
I gaze into your depths, feeling amazingly light
Wondering what dish you will bring me tonight
Soil with sabrino, boil with babinoes red
Fire of the ghouls, the ghosts, the goblins and the dead.
My mind concentrates on the powers you have over me.
I am ready to join you in the black cavern under the sea.
Loosen now his tight valves.
You do nothing by halves
Not like you've bruised his calves
While he's not got what salves...
His tube deflate through valve:
With six-inch nail hit valve,
The air in tube to halve;
When cops into it delve,
Say "A case of mad valve!"
Ask me my opinion:
It's a heart cast- iron:
A daring to pinion
The arms of one's union,
Dues slicing like onion
In Crowned Lion's Union.
I am blaming it on weather
Feel a bit too old today
Sky is pale, the clouds gather
In cyclonic disarray
Clouds may tell about something
I’d prefer to stay untold
Before scattering to nothing
They hang over the old road
That goes down to the quay
With its bollards of cast iron
Not a single boat I see
Seagulls overhead keep crying
Why I’m here again, could be
Just a call I answer to
By inertia, thoughtlessly
Like an animal can do.
Last night,
You beat my meat and blow my mind
Later, you overwhelm me
With every single grind.
Cranking and cranking
Untill my hunger roars.
When you turn around in that apron
I adore your every curve.
I like it hot and juicy
Alittle pink in the middle.
I can't wait to see that steak
Hit that hot cast iron skillet.
Put some onions on that steak
Perhaps a few mushrooms too.
Girl, you know I love your cooking
But I love my desserts too.
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