The Last Stop
We had a wonderful time
When we visited Wichita, Kansas
What a good idea it was
And what a perfect day for us
We stopped for Stroud’s chicken
And you really wouldn’t believe
The delicious food we ordered
And the great service we received
The salads were not only tasty
But beautiful for us to see
Fresh and so delicious
How ideal it was for me
Chicken brown and so crispy
And yet tender and juicy inside
Why, it just couldn’t have been better
With fresh green beans on the side
So, if you are hungry for food
That will definitely hit the spot
Just ask and I’ll give you directions
Directions that you’ll be glad you got!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Delicious Chocolate Cove
Now these folks know how to live
I wish I’d been there when
Chocolate poured from a fountain
With the perfect kind of blend
Yes, delicious little morsels
You can poke right on a stick
All you have to do, my friend
Is submerge whatever you pick
Strawberries so fresh and juicy
Pineapple so sweet as well
They’d slide them very carefully
Under chocolate as it fell
No matter what the occasion
These folks know how to eat
Long wonderful tables of food
Anything you might seek
They find a way to celebrate
Oh, they are so good
I wish I lived amongst them
Right in their neighborhood
So if you get a chance folks
As down the roads you rove
Stop in to meet a place I call
The Delicious Chocolate Cove!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Saturday Night in Dill City
We had a night I’d like to tell about
Consisting of an extraordinary meal
The food was simply delicious
With a down-home country feel
The place in which I ordered my food
It was one it’d never have expected
It was at the Fire Extinguisher
I was not even really directed
The food was oh, so scrumptious
Hamburger steak cooked on the grill
Caramelized onions plopped on top
I can taste that flavor still
Crispy fries and freshly made salad
With dressing fit for a king
Perfect for a party
Or out for a Saturday night fling
Yes, we had a wonderful time
If we hadn’t it would have been a pity
But we did find this restaurant on
Saturday night in Dill City
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Elephant Bar
I have a simple question to ask you
Have you ever been to an Elephant bar?
Oh, you must, because it’s so quaint
One of my favorite restaurants so far
Why, everyone loves the Elephant
The statues in this place are so neat
And the food, oh such food they have
Each morsel is a scrumptious treat
I’ll tell you more about the food
Delicious in both taste and sight
Elephant size portions they advertise
They create meals that are perfectly right
Chicken salad that’s so good for you
They create the perfect blend of flavors
I always eat mine so slowly
Because it’s food that I truly savor
Take time from your busy schedule
No matter where you are
Because you MUST visit a restaurant
That is called The Elephant Bar!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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060610E dining with friends
after we emptied our thoughts
we are tired and hungry for food
at far end of the hall a promise
an array of very delicious dishes
almost likes of las vegas buffet
awesome i could smell it already
we twiddle our thumbs in line
contemplating which is the best
me, i go for fresh tropical fruits
sea food is always a temptation
boiled blue crabs and fresh oysters
i can still taste the ocean pearls
poem by Manonton Dalan
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The Rockin L & H
Nothing tastes nearly as good
As it does on the outside grill
Camping out in my childhood
I have sweet memories still
Beans slow cooked and smoky
Bacon and bar-b-q sauce within
Biscuits light and fluffy as well
Sharing food with friends and kin
Corn so sweet and delicious
Yet crunchy against your teeth
The smell of the smoke in the air
Of wonderful smoky pork or beef
There’s a place that you’ll truly enjoy
Where you’ll never want to eat in haste
Because the food is so delicious
It is called the Rockin L & H!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Easter at Spanish Cove
As always when a holiday is here
Food miraculously arrives
For Spanish Cove they have
Cooks where perfection thrives
Fresh, delicious and tasty
Tables set up with such style
Folks lined up to fill their plates
Food that satisfies for awhile
Lovely flowers graced the tables
And put everyone in the mood
For Easter dinner is special
Nowhere can you find better food
The color and freshness of fruit
Adorned the enormous salad bar
Looking very festive as well
And wanted to be the star
I hope you had a special Easter
Like the folks who love to rove
A delicious dinner like the ones
Who had Easter at Spanish Cove!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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A buffet to Remember
It was a buffet to remember
With a lovely Hawaiian theme
Food so fresh and flavorful
It was truly a food critic’s dream
Shrimp so sweet and tasty
Dipping sauce perfectly mixed
The platters were so beautiful
With everything that was fixed
A pig cooked to perfection
We couldn’t wait to eat
So much food to put on our plate
Hard to carry it to our seat
The perfect way to celebrate
Harold’s 100th birthday
Grabbed our plate and filled it up
It was just like a holiday!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Chicken And Vegetables
it was time to sit down to pleasure eat
the vegetables looked so juicy so good
cut beautifully presented all appealed
to the eye this part of meal all must eat
but oil juice soiled had a taste could not eat
two pieces of chicken drumsticks next appealed
fresh looked crisp brown cooked to perfection
upon first every bite oh how supreme tasty sweet
what was the hand that soiled the vegetable oil?
what was the hand that blessed the tender meat?
when clapping these hands never never meet
taste offering as heart’s condition bitter or sweet
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Lovely Picnic with Friends
Oh what a lovely day it was
The weather warm and sweet
Packed with friends we cherish
No better folks could you meet
We barbequed dogs on the grill
Out in the bright sunshine
Enjoying the open sky to eat
A meal that was truly fine
Burgers too were grilled just right
Topped with onions and stuff
Just simple tasty scrumptious food
Without a lot of unnecessary fluff
Deviled eggs so perfectly made
With a sprinkle of paprika on top
A delicious blend of flavors
That really truly hit the spot
It was a day we will remember
Good food, good friends together
Can’t ask for a more relaxing time
With the gift of perfect fall weather!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Before' The Beans
Take one turkey butt,
And put it in boiling water.
Make sure you had put in olive oil first.
With a little butter, oregano and basil leaves.
Then add two tablespoons of soy sauce.
A pinch or two of brown sugar, salt and red pepper.
20 minutes!
That's all you want to give it 'before' the beans!
Speckled Butter Beans.
With kidney and black eye peas.
Add them with sliced carrots and celery.
Turn down the heat,
To medium for approximately 45minutes.
And serve this with brown rice.
If you are into chicken...
Fried wings would be delicious.
For the better of the best tastes,
The 'smoked' turkey butt is great for that!
NOTE: 'Yes' this is my own original recipe.
Enjoy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dave’s Restaurant
Smell of sizzling steak in the air,
people talking and laughing everywhere.
Football game on big flat screen t.v.s,
fans watching and screaming happily,
while eating hot Grilled Worth Wings.
You can order Buffalo chicken, shrimp or gator,
you can order hand cut fries or side of taters.
Dave’s has pastas with or without fish,
he even has the Islamorada fish sandwich.
Now Dave’s has a bar with cool looking stools,
you can order beer or a smoothie to stay cool.
Kid’s can even have a bite to eat,
Dave’s has kid’s menu with chicken tenders and grilled cheese.
Captain Morgan Burger, steaks and fajitas are great,
Prime rib, Mojo Pork Platter are a delicious plate.
When downtown walking on Lake Ave.,
Stop at Dave’s Restaurant for the fresh food you can have.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on October 15,2011
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road
The chicken was undecided on whether to cross the road,
she was a short sighted chicken
who, not being able to see across the road
couldn't quite understand the advantages
of being on the other side.
People passing by the chicken
stopped to ask if she wanted to get across the road
but the chicken just clucked, indecisively,
looking very concerned as to her own
demise if she should attempt to.
After all, should she transverse the road
and avoid oncoming vehicles
she would then be stuck on the other side
but should she not, then she may well
feel unfulfilled, unaccomplished.
Not wanting to disappoint,
let down, or cause a disturbance
the chicken did a little shake,
a little flutter and hop, skipped
and jumped across the road.
A local lorry came hurtling towards her,
she saw the headlights, heard the horn
but too late! There were chicken bits
all over the place while a local
reporter took notes, writing:
We'll never know why the chicken
tried to cross that road in heavy traffic
but she was pronounced dead
on arrival at the local hospital.
They'll be no live chicken tonight.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Chocolate Fun
When I visited Yukon last summer
Elaine vividly described to me
The wonderful chocolate fountain
As sweet and smooth as could be
My mouth began to water
My tongue could almost feel
Chocolate melting upon it
I swear that it felt and tasted so real
I look at the wonderful pictures
And imagine what it would be like
To dip delicious sweet fruit in chocolate
Fruit that was so fresh and so bright
Just look that the happy faces
Of the folks of Spanish Cove
Give them food to dip in chocolate
And right into the middle they dove
Do you notice the concentration?
They too feel sweetness on their tongue
Oh dear, I wish I had been there
In the midst of the great chocolate fun
I hope that I have this experience
Before I’m too old and might die
Give me a table of sweet snacks
And a fountain of chocolate to try!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 53
Although a sultan’s garment of honour is dear yet one’s own old robe is more dear; and though the food of a great man may be delicious, the broken crumbs of one’s own sack are more delicious.
Vinegar by one’s own labour and vegetables
Are better than bread received as alms, and veal.
Gourmet vs the Usual
a good food and a good drink
seven days a week
I wouldn't ask for more
I'll just eat with love and won't get bored
I tried cooking my own food
following mom’s recipe
but it didn’t taste exactly as
when mom’s the one cooking
Oh, I realized
I couldn't buy in the store
an ingredient mom has when cooking a food
I couldn't buy love and patience
in the fresh market or in any grocery
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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Eerily In Need of More Rum and Cokers
Even though its been made clear,
The atmosphere stays eerily in need...
Of more rum,
And cokers.
Although others invited,
Join in to share their preferences.
Gin and tonic has been dropped.
And vodka with pitted olives...
Seem to have stopped,
Being the rage these days.
Beer with chasers of scotch,
Give peppermint schnapps new appeal.
When a numbing done to get drunk,
Gives some a reason to touch...
And feel beyond sober barriers.
'Harold...
Have you met my husband,
Keith? '
And the red wine with beef,
Satisfies over white...
Sipped with fish!
Depending on the 'dish' it is with!
*No I haven't...yet!
Should I?
Why?
What is he in to? *
'I had no idea this was 'pot luck'.
I would have baked a duck.
Or brought fried chicken wings.
May I taste that casserole?
Do you mind passing to me,
That delicious mix of carrots and peas...
Please? '
Even though its been made clear,
The atmosphere stays eerily in need...
Of more rum,
And cokers.
There are some 'cooler' folks...
Preferring sweetened munchies,
Socially!
Leaving rum and cokers,
A special breed of people when they meet.
'I had no idea this was 'pot luck'.
I would have baked a duck.
Or brought fried chicken wings.
May I taste that casserole?
Do you mind passing to me,
That delicious mix of carrots and peas...
Please?
These biscuits!
WHO did these biscuits?
They are wonderful! '
*Those are mine.*
~I am a cooker too, Harold.~
*That's good to know.
That's good to know,
Keith.*
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Food is My Friend
Food is my friend,
I eat it everyday.
When I'm all done,
I throw the trash away!
Food is really good;
I like chicken and pizza and fries.
I think that without it,
I just would not survive!
Food can be gross, too;
It stinks when it's gone bad.
But when it doesn't stink,
It actually tastes rad!
Food is the best;
I'm sad when it ends.
But all in all,
FOOD IS MY FRIEND! !
this was written by me and my brother
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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A Place Called the Matador
They started cooking food
A very long time ago
Creating a recipe because
They loved the Chile relleno so
Perfection the objective
Ingredients fresh and fine
To bring forth a creation
That nowhere they could find
So the spent many hours
Of every single day
Cooking the best product
In their very special way
Chili’s are most important
Ingredient of this food
Dough was mixed as well
Oh, it was extremely good
The Matador still remains
The food still as delicious
Devotion to the craft
That has become infamous
I had a chance to see for myself
Cooks who know the score
A product like no other
A place called the Matador!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Fish ‘n Chips - Food of Life
Oh how I crave for fish ‘n chips:
Our fine cuisine of world renown.
I dined on such a subtle dish
When QEII received her crown.
Oh how I need some fish ‘n chips;
I'll queue in pouring rain or snow!
What better way to warm my hands,
As soggy chips make fingers glow.
We Brits are famed for culinary finesse,
Like steak ‘n kidney pud no less;
Wondrous tripe; cottage pie;
Bangers and egg in lard to fry!
But fish ‘n chips - the crowning glory -
A dish to trounce the great kebab!
You think I care for chicken masala?
It's cod and chips that grow my flab.
Oh how I yearn for fish ‘n chips,
All poshly wrapped in the Daily Star,
Then caked and drowned in salt ‘n vinegar -
And stinking out my brand new car!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Food food food food food food food of life
Food food food food food food food of life
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Question
if i give you love
white (as it is pure)
whole (as it is allgiving)
and so fragile (as love is suppose to be
so sensitive)
like a fresh, chicken egg
that i have and hold
and shall now hand to
you, as i give it to you
with matching
i love you, i love you so much...
tell me what will you do with it?
i mean, the fresh,
white chicken egg...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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