poems for (big kids?) about food!
January 17, 2015 by allaboutmanners
A Thousand Hairy Savages
By Spike Milligan
A thousand hairy savages
sitting down to lunch
Gobble Gobble glup glup
Munch, Munch, Munch.
By Louis Phillips
The prune is creased
From head to toe,
Or, (if I might quote
“The prune is wrinkled
Fore and aft…
Pity the prune,
That misunderstood fruit.
A prune is a plum
In an unpressed suit.
by Jack Prelutsky
Herbert Glerbett, rather round
swallowed sherbert by the pound.
fifty pounds of lemon sherbert
went inside of Herbert Glerbett.
With that glop inside his lap
Herbert Glerbett took a nap,
and as he slept, the boy dissolved,
and from the mess a thing evolved—
a thing that is a ghastly green,
a thing the world had never seen,
a puddle thing, a gooey pile
of something strange that does not smile.
Now if you’re wise, and if you’re sly
you’ll swiftly pass this creature by,
it is no longer Herbert Glerbett,
Whatever it is, do not disturb it.
The Silver Fish
by Shel Silverstein
While fishing in the blue lagoon,
I caught a lovely silver fish,
And he spoke to me, “My boy,” quoth he,
“Please set me free and I’ll grant your wish;
A kingdom of wisdom? A palace of gold?
Or all the fancies your mind can hold?”
And I said, “O.K.” and I set him free,
But he laughed at me as he swam away,
And left me whispering my wish
Into a silent sea.
Today I caught that fish again
(That lovely silver prince of fishes),
And once again he offered me,
If I would only set him free,
Any one of a number of wishes,
If I would throw him back to the fishes.
He was delicious!!
When you tip the ketchup bottle,
First will come a little, then a lot’ll.
By William Cole
I’m Sneaky Bill, I’m terrible and mean and vicious,
I steal all the cashews
from the mixed-nut dishes.
I eat all the icing but I won’t touch the cake,
And what you won’t give me,
I’ll go ahead and take.
I gobble up the cherries from everyone’s drinks,
And whenever there are sausages
I grab a dozen links;
I take both drumsticks if
there’s turkey or chicken,
And the biggest strawberries
are what I’m pickin’;
I make sure I get the finest chop on the plate,
And I’ll eat the portions of anyone’s who’s late.
I’m always on the spot before the dinner bell–
I guess I’m pretty awful
By Anthony Gallagher
A potato chip is something
Never ceasing to amuse.
I love it’s funny wrinkles
And the crunch way it chews.
Father Loses Weight
By X.J. Kennedy
My father lost a pound last night
He lost it where it bounces.
He cried, “Good grief! Some gross sneak-thief
Swiped my favorite 16 ounces!”
He turned the whole house upside-down,
Searched attic, roof and basement.
He made us all line up and strip.
Our cat blinked in amazement.
He stomped on the bathroom scale and screamed,
(He’s not the best of losers)
Until the county sheriff beamed
This call to all police cruisers:
“Now hear this! Lost — one pound of weight!
All cars be on the lookout!
Last seen on Mister George McQueen
At the Cub Scout Pop corn-cookout!
If found, the hound who pinched the pound
May be armed. This means danger!
Take care. Prepare to shoot on sight
The least suspicious stranger.”
Alas poor Dad! He felt so sad
He ate to ease his troubles,
Six sirloin steaks, eight wedding cakes,
And ten cheeseburgers (doubles),
But all the while he gulped French Fries
Adrip with salty suet
His missing pound was homeward bound
With more pounds sticking to it.
By Martin Gardner
You’re old enough to know, my son,
It’s really awfully rude
If someone speaks when both his cheeks
Are jammed and crammed with food.
Your mother asked you how you liked
the onions in the stew.
You stuffed your mouth with raisin bread
And mumbled, “Vewee goo.”
Then when she asked you what you said,
You took a drink of milk,
And all that we could understand
Was, “Uggle gluggle skwilk.”
And now you’re asking me if you
Can have more lemon Jell-O.
Please listen carefully, “Yes, ifoo
Arstilla ungwy fello.”
By Kay Starbird
I went away last August
To summer camp in Maine,
And there I met a camper
called Eat-it-all Elaine.
Although Elaine was quiet,
She liked to cause a stir
By acting out the nickname
Her camp-mates gave to her.
The day of our arrival
At Cabin Number 3
When girls kept coming over
To greet Elaine and me,
She took a piece of Kleenex
And calmly chewed it up,
Then strolled outside the cabin
And ate the buttercup.
Elaine from that day forward
Was always in command,
On hikes, she’d eat some birch-bark
On swims, she’d eat some sand.
At meals she’d swallow prune-pits
And never have a pain,
While everyone around her
Would giggle, “Oh Elaine!”
One morning, berry-picking,
A bug was in her pail,
And though we thought for certain
Her appetite would fail,
Elain said, “Hmmm, a stinkbug,”
And while we murmured, “Ooooh,”
She ate her pail of berries
And at the stinkbug too.
The night of Final Banquet,
When Counselors were handing
Awards to different children
Whom they believed outstanding,
To every thinking person
At summer camp in Maine
The Most Outstanding Camper
Was Eat-it-all Elaine!
If Walt Whitman Had Written Humpty Dumpty
By Frank Jacobs
O Humpty! O Humpty! You’ve had a fearful spill,
You’ve tumbled from the stoney height,
your’re lying cold and still;
Your shell is cracked, your yolk runs out,
your breath is faint and wheezy;
You landed as a scambled egg, instead of over easy;
The king has sent his steeds and men
To mend you if they can;
I pray that they did not forget
To bring a frying pan.
The Friendly Cinnamon Bun
By Russell Hoban
Shining in his stickiness and glistening with honey,
Safe among his sisters and his brothers on a tray,
With raisin eyes that looked at me as I put down my money,
There smiled a friendly cinnamon bun, and this I heard him say:
“It’s a lovely, lovely morning, and the world’s a lovely place;
I know it’s going to be a lovely day.
I know we’re going to be good friends: I like your
Together we might to a long, long way.”
The baker’s girl rang up the sale. “I’ll wrap your bun,” she said.
“Oh no, you needn’t bother,” I replied.
I smiled back at that cinnamon bun and ate him, 1,2,3
And walked out with his friendliness inside.
Thoughts About Oysters
By Kaye Starbird
An oyster has no hands or feet
To put itself in motion.
It never waves or runs to meet
Companions in the ocean.
It has no mouth or nose or eyes
Like other water creatures,
Which makes it hard to recognize
An oyster by its features.
An oyster can’t go any place.
It huddles in it’s shell;
And, though it hasn’t got a face,
I guess it’s just as well.
An oyster’s personality
Is dull beyond expression;
And meeting oysters suddenly
You get a poor impression.
The gayest oyster never spends
It’s time in fun or roistering,
Which means an oyster’s only friends
Are people who go an’ oystering.
The people greet it with a knife
And lemon juice—and therefore
I often think an oyster’s life
Is not a life I’d care for.
By Ogden Nash
Develops the jaw,
But celery, stewed,
Is more quietly chewed.
Point of View
By Shel Silverstein
Thanksgiving Dinner’s sad and thankless
Christmas Dinner’s dark and blue
When you stop and try to see it
From the turkey’s point of view.
Sunday Dinner isn’t sunny
Easter Feasts are just bad luck
When you see it from the viewpoint
Of a chicken or a duck.
Oh how I once loved tuna salad
Pork and Lobsters– lamb chops too
Till I stopped and looked at dinner
From the dinner’s point of view.
By Gelett Burgess
The Goops they lick their fingers,
And the Goops they lick their knives;
They spill their broth on the table-cloth;
Oh, they live untidy lives.
The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew,
So that is why I am glad that I
Am not a Goop. Are you?