Tarragon Poems

Le Chicken Moussette Stadio

3 Tablespoons of crown royal
1/2 t of nutmeg
5 Tablespoons of parmesan (grated)
2 Tablespoon of Tarragon
2 T of chive
1 teaspoon of cayenne
salt to taste ( about 1 teaspoon)
1 teaspoon of lemon juice
2 T of parsley
4 Tablespoons of chopped bacon cooked
2 T of ground cooked chicken livers
2 Tablespoons of crushed garlic
2 T of troffel oil
Heavy Cream
3 egg whites
4 Pounds of ground chicken
puree chicken to smooth paste 
add cream until smooth
add cheese,garlic,chives,parsley,
and tarragon and bacon
add oil and wine
mix smooth with and add egg whites
mix until pale and smooth
using a whisk fluff up 4 egg whites
into peaks.
incorporate egg whites into chicken mixture and set aside

in a greased muffin pan line each port with puff pastry
add caramelized onions
caramelized mushrooms
and grated parmesan cheese
and prosciutto
top with chicken mixture
bake for 30 minutes or until done
serve with a hollandaise and garnish.
Serve with roasted garlic aparsgus.

Catalan

She tucks hair behind her ears,
sheen gathers, raven is the light of her.
She lifts him over dark breakwaters,
eyes closed, she funnels him
into her purse seine.
Fingers fit watery gloves,
olive oil and rose water, flavors spill.
Catalan rain clouds weep their sweet moments.
A tarragon musk, a salty lamina folded through
anemone fingers. Gestures flex and unwind.
A topaz sun rides over evening waves,
dips for darting anchovies, sinks into memory.

Catalan Interlude

She tucks long hair behind her ears,
lifts him over dark breakwaters,
their eyes closed, she funnels him
into her purse seine.
Fingers fit watery gloves,
olive oil and rose water,
flavors spill over
Catalan rain clouds,
a musky tarragon,
a salty lamina
folded through
anemone fingers.
Later they watch a topaz sun
ride over waves
as it dips for darting anchovies.

A Spicy Story

One afternoon
with Ginger and Basil
we met an old sage
whose voice was quite nasal

He told us our lives
were in need of some spice
which got me to thinking
of my favorite rice

So my two friends and I
spent the afternoon looking
for wonderful foods
to take home and start cooking

Rosemary stopped by
with that little nut, Meg
who loves telling jokes
and pulling your leg

And wouldn't you know?
Now what would I do?
Of food we had plenty
but our spices were few!

I asked what shelf
is all the saffron?
Loudly I cried
where has the tarragon?

But we used what we had
and the dinner was great
it went by so fast
and when it got late

My friends said goodnight
'twas a fun time, you know
and I suddenly thought
where did the thyme go?

Or So

1 cups of crabmeat
1 cup of pureed shrimp
2 cups of minced goeduck snouts
1 cup of minced catfish
4 cups of mushrooms (chopped fine)
2 tablespoons of cayenne
1/2 cup of lemon juice
6 T of chopped dill
3 tablespoons of tarragon
2 teaspoons of celery seeds
6 T garlic (crushed)
3/4 cups of olive oil
3/4 cups of flour
1 cup of minced onion
1/2 cup of yellow bell pepper
2 cups of heavy cream
2 cups of chicken stock
6 egg whites beaten (with peaks)


make a roux with flour olive oil, add onions, bell pepper, celery seeds,  garlic and mushrooms,
when the roux becomes brown, remove from stove add 2 cups of chicken stock, allow to cool slightly, add heavy cream and sit aside. add crab, fish, snouts, and shrimps. Season with, lemon juice cayenne, tarragon , and dill.
add egg whites, fold into the fishy mixture. bake in buttered rami cans: serve with a vodka, lemon, buttery, dill hollandaise.

Poem For Billy Collins

You are the soup and the spoon.
You are the moist, warm vapor of
tarragon rising from the bowl,
you are the wooden bowl.

You are that same vapor morphed
into the morning mist that flags across
the tops of hemlock and pine on its
journey toward an evening sky so
perfectly clouded and colored it
could be a painting. You are that sky
at dusk. You are the canvas that
caught the silhouette of a tardy
mourning dove racing home.

And I am that mourning dove lost in
reverie while foraging beneath a Mock Orange.
I am the Mock Orange. I am the perfume lifting
out of the center of its creamy, white petals—
pursed like a pouting mouth. I am the hunger.
I am the mouth that will not hesitate to open
for the offered spoon of soup.

By:  Evelyn Augusto

A Fiery Dragon

Grandma! Your talking to a fiery dragon.
Yes, one of my many talents I didn't know I 
Possessed. I will not be impolite. It's standing
There in all its fiery splendor talking from the 
Other side of the fence illuminating the 
Darkness.
I'm honored to finally have met, seen, and 
Talked to an incredible phenomenon.
Would you say your bigger than a mastodon?
I must be under a spell. Where is the sorceress?
Grandma! Your talking to a fiery dragon.
When you use your imagination John
Anything is possible and it is bottomless.
I'm honored to finally have met, seen, and 
Talked to an incredible phenomenon.
Do you eat tarragon?
We are making progress.
Grandma! Your talking to a fiery dragon.
I wave my hand and said Soon all this will be
Gone
Back to lifelessness.
I'm honored to finally have met, seen, and 
Talked to an incredible phenomenon.
A bonfire gave me the key to once upon.
My grandson is still talking about my 
Childishness.
My grandma talked to a fiery dragon.
She was honored to have met, seen, and 
Talked to such an incredible phenomenon.

Electronics

The electronics clambered, numbered incessantly the pixels
Evermore they quoted as they looked sheepishly beyond the waving kelp 
But how many fonts hold fast to the batholiths where benthic crawlers lurk?
All sounds resonate truly never resting they attest to organisms organized 
Materialized from matter without flatter, all is jargon even tarragon
So have you planned usurping what is beyond the seamless light?
Fishing for extinct species yet landing luggage makes one uneasy
But oh so few have caught the ride switched on by myriad microchips
Looking into the lightened halogen afforded space upon the brazen hillside strata
It is all an electric race for peace with resistors, electrons racing past hazards
Imagination pictured impossibilities precisely placed to soothe the softened goals
Remotely fusiform he held in his own untrained hand although he dipped at times
Mechanisms, anachronisms and microcosms of life go on to divide or multiply
They form a landing, certain coiled spinning prisms an animate defense of green
Can a pixel bring a timely recompense or electrons reap a harvest?

The Tansy and the Tarragon

The tansy and the tarragon are sprouting in the lawn;
I can smell their pungent fragrance in the dewy after-dawn.
The crocus and the daffodils are prancing up the hill;
their dresses all a-shimmer and their bodies never still.
The happy little bluebird is flitting all about
to find the perfect property to hang his shingle out.
The tulip swords are shining in the early morning sun,
and I thought I saw Br'er Rabbit havin' him some rhubarb fun.
It's spring and spring is glorious; brings the child right out of me. 
makes me want to dance at midnight beneath budding apple trees.

Faye Lanham Gibson
© April 10, 2014

Yellow Blossoms

yellow blossoms now
'pon Mexican Tarragon...
tea~euphoria  

I bought some Mexican Tarragon
for I thought that I had some
French Tarragon..

I looked up this herb and found
that it can be steeped in a tea 
to be a euphoric drink..

Pink Blossoms

The heavy clouds cool the morn's air
They surround damp, light weight
Each bird seems to approve this day
But to my soul speak ~~wait

Let the Holy Spirit take control
Speaking peace, peace be still
It will all work out in due time
Just obey my sweet Will

Arising to move on to face the day
Just slight color in view
A bright pink 'pon the Tulip Tree
Late season bloom~great hue

Drawing closer blessed once again
The French Tarragon blooms
A tiny Cornflower Blue bloom
Strange~as in view it zooms

Surprise~it's a Bachelor's Button
Two blessings in one day
God uses the small to confound the wise
Thank You for the display


  

Written this Eleventh Day Of June 2013

Second Coming

Fusillade! The thunder throbbed merrily
 As the grassy hay in the stable clamped the baby lad
 Involuntarily, intoxicated tears started running mad
   Huge hand stroke beard, eyes lashes blushed wearily.

Rambling on tarragon path with lively pasture
   Glaring, jealous eyes creep-ed, must be the son of the herdsman,
Who tickled the plants, poked the animals and sent obloquy to man
 They engraved a cave, o! Capture that creature.

He must not stay, a mutant from the pit of sea
 Mistrial, voices rattled, real alien some tittle-tattled,
Shackles raised, skin bruised, gallows set, parents fled,
  Thunder scared, cloud dark and disdain, lightening too blind to see.

Just infusion, the choric birds racked bitterly,
   He will be back, majestically.

- It Is the Market Today -

Come and buy
Fruits and vegetables from own garden
Best quality and most inexpensive items
Apples, Oranges, Bananas, Onions, Carrots and Potatos
Purchasers of my goods, I will give you some Plums for free

Come and buy from me
I have all the herbs you can imagine
Anise, Basil, Tarragon, Thyme, Coriander, Oregano,
Parsley, Rosemary, Cinnamon and Saffron
Fell how good it smells .......
If you wish, you may well get a taste

Come and buy
Here is the "real" goods for a cheap price
Adidas, Diesel, Bjorn Borg, Lacoste, Nike,
Jack & Jones, Gabba and Hugo Boss
Yes, the "real" goods and top quality
Try one as well, I will find a perfect fit for you

Come and buy from me
You need to buy one for your loved one
"Real gold and precious beautiful stones"
Beautiful work and see who it shines in the sun light
If you buy one you get the second for half price
Cheap, cheap .... What would you pay?
Give me a price you will pay...
So we`ll probably agree

Come and buy...... Cheap, cheap....










Turkey 04.04.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

The Guardian of the Kitchen

I sit held by bassalisk stare
From unblinking gold eyes too fair
Always hungry
The body's curled shape is like a dragon
Yet his lair has not jewels but tarragon
The cat watches me.

Waterdroplets Gives Life

Now lies the waterdroplet on the edge
Excess moisture wrung from the foggy air
Droplets that are somehow a reserve hedge
Drops that all the insects, birds, lizzards share

French Tarragon pointed leaves perfect shape
For water to collect travel down tip
Hang suspended surrounded by cloudscape
Time seems to stand still few hours 'till slip

Gone with the heat of the appearing sun
There for just short time so that all can drink
The sun has done a good job and you spun
Dry as in a modern dryer in a wink

To all things there is a season but some short
Can some be extended _ not early thwart

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