Hot Black Orange Tea steeps
in my Brown Betty teapot.
Steam screams from my cup.
Steam whirls from the cup
The scalding tea smells spicy,
To my bland nostrils.
As a poetic chef,
I am ready to create a specific dish.
As I look in my book of recipes,
Limerick jumped off the page.
I must check to see if I have all the ingredients,
humor - got it.
A-A-B-B-A rhyme - got it.
7-10 syllables each line - got it.
Now to create this specific dish.
Add five lines of rhyme,
A-A-B-B-A.
Then add 7-10 syllables for each line.
Stir well,
now add extra humor.
Bake until you see the laughter browning,
serve warm for a plate of smiles.
.
even In thuh dark
where books and spiderz
'bout mine think
spend countless
hourz
last night's yourz
yourn redolence
minglez
az though
here
yourz
now
[JCB Brul Contest : Scents of Autumn
FIRST PLACING : Standard Contest ]
mellow
maturation
cinnamon floats woody
musky flesh loamy depths spice-wise
mushrooms
•••
PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once there were three squirrels, Charlie, Bruce, and Brice
Pumpkin spice was their ultimate vice.
They searched high and low, hoarded every gourd,
Found them at Sprouts Marketplace, “Oh My Lord!”
"This place is a squirrel's paradise!"
One day they discovered Starbucks drive-through
From then on, their autumnal obsession grew and grew
With pumpkin spice lattes galore,
They usually drank at least three or four.
Till one day Brice noticed he no longer wore a size two.
Then he met the barista babe named Imma Lou
“Pumpkin spice lattes, I’m through with you!
But Imma liked his chunky cheeks. “You’re my boo!”
So she hired him and his pals to be on her crew.
Now they are employees of the month. Who knew?!”
EVERYWHERE, EVERYWHERE, ‘TIS PUMPKIN SPICE!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The leaves haven't even thought about turning,
still stubbornly clinging to summer's green,
but the grocery store screams orange.
You see them, the usual suspects, transformed.
Twinkies, once golden vanilla sponge cakes,
now a suspiciously orange hue,
promising pumpkin spice bliss.
Hostess Cupcakes, frosted swirls of autumnal delight,
their chocolate depths now haunted
by the ghost of gourd.
Oreos, America's favorite cookie,
now betraying their chocolate heart
for a limited-edition fling
with their pumpkin spice centers.
And M&Ms, ah those little,
candy-coated spheres of madness,
each one a tiny, orange lie,
whispering of harvest festivals
and sweater weather.
‘Tis a pumpkin spice apocalypse,
a sugary sweet, nutmeg and cinnamon invasion.
I laugh, a little crazed, a little delighted.
Bring it on, I say,
to the Twinkies, the Hostess cupcakes,
the Oreos, the M&Ms,
let pumpkin spice reign supreme!
Yes, let's be honest,
it's ridiculous, but
I'm totally here for it.
Now, where’s the pumpkin spice Pepto Bismol?!
SPICE
seasons
simmering
saffron flowers steam
crimson threads libido
scents so sweet, bon appétit
“Rosemary perfumes August’s breeze”
With coriander cumin turmeric
basmati rice saffron and spice
onions chilli peppers
and all things nice
with chapati and chutney
a samosa or two
naan for starters
rogan josh vindaloo
not eye-watering
yet tasty is best
tandoori tikka masala
korma's a meal with zest
chicken lamb chickpeas or lentils
a dinner for two you do not hurry
allow what you've got to simmer in the pot
for a winner Indian curry
but if I were you whatever you do
don't put Scotch bonnet on it
Mystique mist shrouds the penultimate path
to the future, fading away in obscurity.
In twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
the echoless tune of forlorn somber life,
silhouetted against the faint skyline of longing.
The threads of turmoil weave
the blue motif with sadness mold
in craving satiation, riding the sensuous storm
to the blank mindscape of frustrated desire,
once embedding the fervent fascination for repletion.
The shards of splintered hope adrift on buoyant flow
of cascading memories of the lively times
bring back the flavor of the old spices of life.
The remnant vibe of rejuvenation returns
within the sanguinity sphere of listless life.
Peppering the season
Praising God, the reason
Prayers for hearts and souls
Peace that always consoles
Preparing us for One
Prince of Peace, He will stun
Pure love has just begun
There is magic in ...
Sugar and snowflakes,
When wonder does begin
As December awakes
Where this magic comes from
Do we really need to know ...
From first bite to last crumb
O, how we enjoy it, though
These simple, pleasurable things
Dance and mix and melt ...
Upon imaginary wings ...
And with our feelings felt
Comes to us like a dream
These things need not grow up,
Unlike the rising steam ...
From a hot cocoa cup
Wonderful and sweet
A warmer winter makes,
When candy and spice meet
And an oven slowly bakes
There is magic in the air
In crystals can be found,
Within many sugared fare
Or snowflakes on the ground.
21/2cups of flour( self rising)
2 tablespoons of cornstarch
2 whole eggs+ 1 yolk
2 Tablespoons of lemon juice
1 Tablespoon of Gin
1/2 Teaspoon of lemon zest
1 cup of bread crumbs
1 &1/2 cup of buttermilk
1 Tablespoon of cayenne pepper
2 tablespoon of dried chives
1 Teaspoon of salt
1 Table spoon of dehydrated onion
1 Tablespoon of garlic powder
1 Tablespoon of Paresean Cheese
3 cups of shucked Manoes
6 cups of oil for deep frying
mix all ingredeints
minus the clams
create a batter
add more or less to
create a sticky consistant batter
smooth
dip Manoes in the batte
and deep fry until golden brown
serve from a bed of watercrest
small cunks of deseed watermelon
crumbled feta
and fried onions with crumbled bacon
lettuce, fried green tomatos
and a vinagerette
serve with tartar sauce
Enjoy!
Silhouette of golden sun rays
Embraced by melodic moon
Pulling off this dance by day
Till seducing nights like groom
Elegant draft spilling colorful leaf
Mahogany trees bend in wind
Bathing in daily blue breeze
Eve chills that seem not to end
Ready for your pumpkin spice
Fast from summer’s abuse
Alluring amber hearts that fly
Love is a hot call for a truce
Lullaby of leaves falls from trees
September sings soft to me
It’s the sound of wind, breathless, softly playing
Rustling through leaves with songs in richest essence
Collecting dreams despite quiet senescence
Gentling, lasting impressions grown through praying.
While the nights grow bitter, the trees keep swaying
Reaching for the moon in her adolescence
Lush splash of song with tones of fluorescence
‘tis the season of grace is all I’m saying
Dazzling colors, bold tones of joy unfolding
Seeking life in the hearts of those who love her,
Autumn’s secrets, so graceful, we’re beholding
It’s the twinkling of an instant we’ll say burr,
Her rousing splendors she’ll not be withholding.
Autumn is the spice that I’ll ever prefer!
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