in a springg board pan
layer a graham cracker crust
with graham crackers and
shortbread cookies
2 cup of graham crackers
2 cups of shortbread cookie
1 c of butter
3 cups of softened cream cheese
2 cups of melted butter pecan ice-cream
1/2 cup of sugar
3 eggs
4 tablespoons of cornstarch
2 tablespoons of flour
1 teaspoon of vanilla
3 tablespoon of nut liquer
1/2 of butter
1/4 c of chocolate chips
1/4 c of dried bananas
in a large mixing bowl
use a hand mixer
combine til a creamy smoothness bake for 35 minute allow to cool
top with strawberries and glaze
and whipped cream!
Of that oak tree falls, I may soon be dead.
I stared in disbelief at my cousin Zed.
Why do you have this weird feeling of dread?
He shrugged his shoulders, eating mom’s shortbread.
Sometimes Zed gets weird thoughts into his head.
Why can’t he keep them to himself instead?
Paula persnickety poppycock provided proof
Questioning quarrelsome quick-witted quail
Responsible radicals reacted, reminding raised roof
Shopworn shortbread shakes shifty ships and shale
How can a cookie be solid and heavy
yet be a crispy delight
Taste of heaven in each bite
melts on your tongue
vanilla and pecan
as you crunch and chew
Savor the flavor mellow and whole
magic shortbread cookie a wonder to behold
Not so sweet but so much fun to eat
Pecan Sandies a true cookie treat
A favorite off the grocery shelf
so delicious and made by elves.
Walking down the quaint city street entering the sweetshop,
Oh yes! Hershey’s Almond Milk Chocolate tasty flavor
Sweetheart chooses sweet licorice and hot fudge brownie delight,
Sweetie pie and I flavor sweetmeat crystallized fruit.
Sweet tooth such a happy mouth vibrato to have;
Healthy sweet corn with sweet pepper and sweet-and-sour
Rest in front of my Dear Heart and I with a sweet pea,
Sweet cherry edible fruit on ice cream dessert, oh yum!
Sweet sultan annual herb varicolored flower in garden
Touches sweet acacia shrub fragrant flowers for perfumery,
Enjoying sweet basil on my sweet potato pie with my Sugar Love
Sweet nothings sound to wife trompe l’oeil painted photographic reality.
Sweet cicely herb white flowers brighten garden sipping
Sweet cider with cinnamon and raspberry shortbread warm
Soul with endearments, together speaking love honestly husband
Wife meshed together in all things sharing sweet clover; blessed.
In an increasingly competitive world
It’s easy to stop:
Go to the shop
Buy a tea with a chocolate shortbread
Bury your head.
Starting out when everyone else did years ago
Another wrinkle, another blemish
Its easy to stop:
I should be teaching
Not studying
Employing
Not applying
Well, for 15 years I paid my taxes
Is that enough?
She’s foreign and she’s got a job
She applied from her country and came here and started work immediately
She lost her job, got another in a week
She changed her career, didn’t like it, changed back again and got a job
Wet washing smelling from being too long in the machine,
Cleaning the microwave plate,
Picking up broken toy handcuffs from the floor,
No time to clear the paraphernalia that comes through the door
Odd socks strewn carelessly
Dirty children’s underpants staring up at me
Empty WOTSIT packets under the sofa
The rush of London passes me by
I sigh,
Another day
Of trying to be someone
Trying to achieve something
Trying to fulfil
Losing the will
Do it I will!!!
I’m still
Today I’ll wrap up
And put away
Until tomorrow
Eat some chocolate
Drink some wine
And the night is mighty fine
Grab some shortbread
And some cider
And a roasted turkey slider
Have some eggnog
And some cake
Disregard the stomach ache
Dip some fruit in crème anglaise
And enjoy the holidays
Chicken curry worry about finances
of dinners on the table consisting of
bank statements eat paper water vapour
smoke out the room bloom gloom monsoon
of tears flood of blood crashing wave frequency
in the crooked shack in The middle of nowhere.
Stairs enhanced mechanical bannisters coiling round the
metal frames of this game disdain.
Retain my shivers quivers kitchen livers blisters serious series of rhymes that just shoot out like bullets through a glass canvas
We're at the bottom of the stairs
So take some wine and shortbread with you as you make your way through the misted night of lights blue ambience playing like a cutscene of dreams gleam let your imagination run away with you.
STORIES IN POTTERY
Bluebirds above the azure lakes
Burleigh cups - willow pattern trees in gold leaf -
Once with mashed Sichuan oolong,
And on their side plates, shortbread tiffin,
While nephews in white laughed loudly and played tennis on the lawn.
George V Silver Jubilee mug and plate (1910-1935)
Found by slum clearance machines
In a small kitchen overlooking the slipway at Wallsend -
The mug was dropped once and chipped
On the stone floor, toasting the returned Mauretania -
The plate was never used again,
The Mauretania was never used again.
Chipped but uncracked ; dust coated, but loved.
Shapes and pictures that hold more than hot tea.
Saucers deep and smooth, or shallow and scalloped
With painted delicate petals.
With oolong long cooled,
Cups with flared bell-mouths buried
Under crumpled newspaper stuffed
In soapboxes advertising Daz flakes
Lemon shortbread tastes no better on a sunny day than a rainy day but wind is inclement conditions in which to eat a flan. ? Stare not at a wandering ivy bead plant for it is intelligent enough to understand that a dishcloth cannot cook in a microwave. Never stick a twig in a cup of tea as it might frighten the passing cucumber family whose strides reach five hundred miles an hour. Even on ice. For every toothpick there is an iced bun. And over alot of coffees discussion is not a relevant useful thing as wavering kebabs on boom clouds sumasault over the ray sharks. Hahahaha and now I will eat a pickle. I carried it for eons in a suitcase. Destroy not. Waste not. And be at one with an illuminated bus stop. Felon feet fetching. *** fraternities. *** trepidation. *** talismanic tantric trees talking xxxx xenophobic *** ha
Your house still smells like you:
Warm shortbread and lavender soap -
Comforting and agonizing.
Your plants still bloom,
Perched beside the window
Where the kettle waits to be filled.
But your rocking chair is still
And all is quiet.
I could have fallen to pieces
Like a hand-blown vase
Hurled against green walls
Or dropped on old floorboards
Through fingers slick with shock.
But you sewed me up
With words gone by.
Your remnant thoughts
(So similar to thoughts I've had)
Penned in your slanted scrawl,
Filling pages with perfect rhymes
And clever observations.
Here you'll live forever
In vibrant verses and lilting lines.
And I'll live here too
Until the last salty drop
Lands on the final page.
Do you mean short as in not tall
Maybe short as in bad tempered
How about shortening for best shortbread overall
Or taking a short-cut for going unhampered
Short-hand, for taking notes at speed
Short lived as in not long to last
Short stop and short slip in sporting games you need
To stop short is what I intend to do so hold fast
So many short’s to write about, If I do them all, will definitely not be short.
Penned 31 May 2013
slurped cream teas
chewed shortbread
thumbed through travel magazines.
Darling
With Christmas day almost here
I wondered do the angels share this time of year
Do they hang Christmas lights
To make heavens Christmas bright
Are all the stars that i see
Twinkling lights from their Christmas tree
Is their gift a fallen feather with the ends painted gold
Or are they all sewn together making a quilt for the cold
Do they have garland made from twigs and berries
Or shortbread cookies topped with a cherry
Are the stockings made from fluffy white feathers
Do you sing in twos or gather together