Smashed Hopes
My fascination with kale is nil,
but smashed potatoes fill the bill.
They go best with butter and
homemade gravy, never canned.
Rosé goes with clove-studded ham,
but I must admit I am
fond of gin for getting smashed
when the potatoes are mashed!
The dVerse Poets Quadrille challenge prompt is Smash.
And you can find more responses to the prompt HERE.
Eulogy for Artichokes
Behold the bristly artichokes scattered through the field—
delicious little thistles when boiled, buttered, peeled.
With our taste buds wakened and when they’re salted slightly,
it takes a bit of discipline to try to eat politely.
Leaf by leaf, we peel them bare, scraping off their meat.
We like them better with each tiny bit of them we eat.
Then scraping off the “chokey” part, we gobble down the heart.
They told us all along that this would be our favorite part.
Who knew these fat green pinecones would turn out to be so tasty?
Now we wish consumption of them hadn’t been so hasty.
And even after plates are bare and not a morsel lingers,
we’d like to slurp the butter up and lick it from our fingers.
Prompts for the day are scattered, field, discipline, bristly and wake. Image by Margaret Jaszowski on Unsplash.
Piscine Phobia
I don’t eat salmon, don’t eat flounder.
I prefer my protein rounder—
chicken, roasts or food like that.
Fish is too fishy and too flat.
Tuna mixed with soup and noodle,
I despise kit and caboodle!
Nothing could persuade me that
I should eat food fit for a cat.
I won’t eat food grown in a swamp,
so crabs and clams I never chomp.
No protein caught by motor boat
will ever pass my teeth and throat.
When dinner parties serve up chowder,
I’m likely to just take a powder.
I simply can’t take the suspense
of what fish lurks in soup so dense.
So if you want to plan a treat
that I will find the nerve to eat,
once again, I must repeat,
forget the lobster. Give me meat!!
Words for today are flounder, suspense, nothing, swamped and motor.
Refresh Me
If you hope to make conjunction
with me at your little function,
serve potato chips with dip
and also, I’d appreciate a sip
of Diet Coke or Seven Up
in a waxy paper cup.
No one likes a fete that lacks
sweet or salty little snacks.
Pizza, nachos and popcorn, too,
are appropriate things to chew.
Leave caviar to lords and kings.
I’d much rather have onion rings.
Refreshments are an absolute must.
Without them, parties are a bust.
And any date becomes an upper
when it includes a little supper.
So if you wish to win my heart,
my stomach is the place to start.
Short and to the Point
Eat to live or live to eat?
Chewing’s a thing that can’t be beat!
Eschewing chewing can’t be done,
for masticating’s just too fun.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 