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  • #378678
    Registered On: November 5, 2019
    Topics: 7
    Replies: 167
    Has thanked: 279 times
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    Here are the two additional poems that I wrote some time ago, both with a food motif. The first is obvious, but the second is closer to my heart.

    A Poem to Liver

    My mother the heavens bless her soul
    Tried variety with every meal
    So beets and spinach were usual fare
    At our table, where the common was rare
    Cabbage and broccoli I could stand.
    Even Brussel sprouts or mint with lamb
    Lima beans and whole prunes without the Danish
    It was clean up the plate or go to bed famished

    For winter breakfast, all I wanted in my bowl
    Was Frosted Flakes or Cheerio’s, a simple goal
    Instead I got Farina or Cream of Wheat,
    Corn Meal Mush or Oatmeal – what a treat!
    On vacation, when all should be sweet and bliss,
    Where cold orange juice was not to be missed
    I got grapefruit juice, unsweetened to boot
    Pork and beans for dinner. Objections were moot.

    My mother insisted with a straight face.
    If ever I was asked out, to eat all with grace
    Whatever was served, I would know what to do
    Sample it all, smile, and swallow it too.
    With all this odd fare, and all that I ate
    There was one meal she prepared that I will ever hate
    It smelled like bacon and appeared to look fine
    But liver with onions is where I draw the line.


    A Special Delight

    A treat for me, each day I find
    It comes in handy, to ease my mind
    A moment’s relief from the daily stress
    It gives me peace – I wouldn’t want less.

    I relish the moment, the taste divine
    The texture, the feel, a delight quite fine.
    It may not be good for me, I care not
    I’ll nibble on it anyway, accepting my lot.

    Too soon it’s all gone, but still I can find
    Searching the wrapper, scraps left behind.
    I’ll lick the wrapper, too, when others don’t see
    For, nothing comes between my treat and me

    It goes straight to my hips, yes it’s true
    My tummy too, another work-out’s due.
    So, off to the gym, I give my bag a pat
    For buried deep down is some more chocolate.

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