Short Cordon Poems

She did have a pearl of great price
But it was swallowed by some mice
She fed them some cheese
Inside her deep freeze
So what you just ate was not rice...

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a chef cordon bleu 

                                        black and white fish on the plate

                                                    other fish to fry...

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His name was Mr Hamish MacTavish.
He was a Scot, and his taste was lavish.
Mr MacTavish wrote a posh cookery book
So all Cordon Bleu Chefs could try to cook,
A haggis!...

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When we depart
from this stage,
the invisible silver cord
will be shown dividing
the body, of the spirit...
We won't be flesh anymore,
we will only be conscience... !...

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Low-cut dress
Jeweled excess
You inspire

Wine this eve
Let’s conceive
Our desire

Cordon bleu
Dancing, too
Hearts afire 

My lament
Time’s descent
Night’s expired

2/14/2016

For Gigno's Valentine's Ellip Contest

As "Ellip" is not listed among the forms, I just labeled this effort "Verse."...

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Le Cordon Bleu sommelier in the know
Discussed wine pairing with patrons aglow
"What does your order include?"
"Roast turducken frankenfood"
"Then I recommend a dry Portmanteau!"






***
6/19/2020

This is an example of one of my free-range limericks.  Click on the pic to see the others.  Cheers!...

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"End it now he called to me"
As he was backed into a corner you see
"Do it. Go on do it. I dare you."
Wanting me surely to follow it through

We waited and left him with no where to go
As the time here went so very slow
Occasionally he would talk on the phone
Until finally he came out to us all alone.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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The morning -
kayaks launch, voices call,
sound moves cleanly over deep waters.

White ibis and blue heron cordon cypress knees;
shallow eddies mirror the faces of our dreams.

At twilight, sherbet reflections paint
sunlight's fair, fading face
on our lake.



Copyright, May 31, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson...

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A cold damp wind hits you in the face
And the darkness closes in on you
Biting into you as you wait and stand
There is no more need to be concerned

For the longer you wait, the worm will turn
As the dog searches through the factory
Endless minutes plod on without hearing
Until the all clear is given to resume patrol.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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I remember the little things
The friendly smile on a cobber’s face
The gentle cool breeze on a summer’s night cordon
The first cooling touch of the sea after a day shift
The mirror’s reflection of my first blue 
The sitting with mates and a beer
The first day with the thin blue line
The last time I wore the blue
I remember the little things.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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Basil said "a hearty, jolly morning" to Ginger and to Bay,
"Nice to see you, Rosemary, on this fine Christmas Day."
"It's great to see you too, Paprika." "Oh, Lavender, how do you do?"
"How have you been, Cicely?" "You look divine, so Cordon Bleu!"


A Funny Christmas Themed 4 liner Poetry Contest, placed 2nd
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin 
Date wrote: 24th December 2021...

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Colorful vegetables are so good for you
Colorful dining when served cordon bleu
Colorful melons, I just love honeydew
Colorful candies that I love to chew
Colorful cocktails I’ll sip one or two
Colorful rainbows so pretty to view
Colourful skin inking, it’s called a tattoo
Colorful steam train, I hear it choo choo
Colorful language – the air can turn blue!...

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While walking around like Satan
I met today’s Weaker Nathan
And was set to accuse the brethren
Then not in church with his children…

Because of the feared dead line
For end of old currency,
Now in banks yielding a scared line
And scenes of genuine urgency!

“Sunday and you’ve priest abandoned!
God! This fool shouldn’t be pardoned 
Elder and his pastor Burden…

Let me off all banks cordon,
To federal capital fly:
Meet president, to you Housefly…...

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Two reeds at water's edge, siblings
in size and suppleness, fend in wind their
all but invisible life, as miraculous as yours,
or my own: their 'Watcher in the Rye"?  No!--
but surely the Watcher in the Sky, who
made their delicate life, and ours.  Shall take
a knife from within its sheath, cordon, 
and fashion a festive braid for a funeral wreath
while wind sings for all us careless things
of accidental beauty, resigned to the eye-
less blind that do not see us?...

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