Here is my first poetry post for the new Food Poetry Friday. I know, I know, it's late on Saturday. Technical difficulties delayed my poetry post. That and the fact that I tried to write a Turkey poem. Let's just say I didn't want to gobble gobble it up when I read it. It was about as stinky as that pun.
So here is a poem I wrote last October. Please feel free to post your own food poems in the comments, or perhaps your October berry stories...
October Berries
by Julie Reinhardt
August is the time to find
Juicy berries on the vine
Until your mouth is purple and
You’ve red stained fingers on each hand
But now it is October, yet
I hunt for berries, cold and wet
I pick as if they were like gold
These left behind, fruit not sold
For though they are not plump and sweet
As August berries that I eat
October berries are the last
Until next August comes to pass
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Food Poetry Friday (OK, it's Saturday): October Berries
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Food Poetry Friday
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I love this idea. It will give me some fun writing to work on during lunch breaks. Thanks, Julie! Hope to see you right here, next Friday.
ReplyDeleteAnd you can write a poem about your lunch, on your lunch break! See you next week. J
ReplyDeleteI love this! What a great idea.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Holly! I wanted a way to connect my writing community with my barbecue community. I thought there could be some interesting cross connections. This seemed like the best way to make that happen.
ReplyDeleteMy one and only published poem is about food.
ReplyDeleteShiny apples, good to eat,
green is tart and red is sweet.
Bananas come in yellow skin,
soft and squishy fruit within.
Ladybug magazine for children paid me $25 -- more than one dollar per word! Actually, I had two more verses, about peaches and pears, but they only bought the first half of the poem. That was the peak of my poetry career.
Chris Eboch
Haunted: The Ghost on the Stairs and the Riverboat Phantom
Read the first chapters for free on my web site.
Hmmm . . I have a poem about fruit, too. . . .
ReplyDeleteThe Pear
It was a
spectacular Pear–
it lit up the night.
It was all
he could do
to not take a bite.
But a bite
he took and
he was smitten
By the beauty
and the taste
of the Pear he'd bitten.
It danced on
his tongue.
It dazzled his eye.
Delighted his heart.
Warmed his inside.
And he bit
and he savored
that Spectacular Pear
again and
again till
the Pear wasn't there.
You guys are amazing! Chris - I want to hear the last two stanzas, and Kevan - I want that pear!
ReplyDelete