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A Jar of Pickles

 

I had a jar of pickles,

but they were very fickle.

I had to go in for a quick kill,

but couldn’t get them out

without a fierce rout.

Firmly wedged inside the jar

they wouldn’t budge a bar

until I tried a tickle

then out they poured in a trickle

that fickle jar of pickles.

Vanessa Proctor
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

poetry prompt #32

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tongue Torture

 

If you like to eat cold meat and consider that a treat,

Have you ever thought of adding chilli sauce?

Use a little, not a lot, since this sauce is rather hot

And you wouldn’t want to singe your tongue, of course.

 

Don’t be led astray by greed and take more than you will need.

If you do, I can assure you, you’ll regret it.

Though your tongue may twist and turn, your whole mouth will seem to burn

And I doubt you’ll soon be able to forget it!

 

Monty Edwards

Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

poetry prompt #32

Monty says: The pickle prompt got me thinking about other sauces and relishes which adults enjoy, but children’s palates may not be prepared for.

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Sweet and sour

Black morsels crawling all around,
my feet are being tickled
by sugar ants and honey ants
and gherkin ants
all pickled.
Nadine Cranenburgh
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

Nadine said: The pickle prompt a while back made me think of a nonsense poem I wrote for Sally Odger’s upcoming poetry anthology, which played with the idea of ants of both sweet and savoury varieties.

poetry prompt #32

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Pickled peppers

 

Polly Packer picked a pile of pickled peppers

outweighing the paltry peck that Peter chose.

Poor Peter Piper’s paused his pepper picking

and all he picks at present is his nose.

Jenny Erlanger
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

poetry prompt #32

Jenny said: The prompt word, “pickle” reminded me of the famous old tongue-twister involving Peter Piper and his pickled peppers.   The challenge was to find enough new words starting with “p” to retain a tongue-twister character.

 

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The Mystery Box

 

My lunch for school’s a mystery box and here’s the reason why:

I cannot guess just what’s inside, however hard I try.

There’s something different every day: Mum treats it as a game.

The only thing I’m sure about: no day will be the same.

 

If Monday’s roll has Vegemite, then Tuesday’s might have jam.

A sandwich made for Wednesday’s lunch might well be beef or ham.

On Thursday then, a salad wrap could be the big surprise,

But one school lunch on Friday something shocking met my eyes:

 

My mystery box was oozing with a greenish-yellow trickle!

There must have been a mix-up with Dad’s favourite: cheese and pickle!

While Dad enjoyed my peanut paste spread on his bread with honey,

My sandwich had an awful taste. Don’t laugh. It wasn’t funny!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

poetry prompt #32Monty says: I didn’t like pickle at all as a child and would have been horrified to find it in my school lunch.

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The picnic

 

Help! I’m in a pickle.

The pickle’s in a jar;

The jar is in a hamper

On the back seat of a car.

 

We’re going to a picnic

I don’t know what to do:

When they eat the pickles up,

I’ll be eaten, too.

 

This is a disaster.

They think it’s just a lark

To hear birds sing and nibble things

Down at the local park.

 

I’m really in a pickle;

I must get a message through.

If I can’t send this call for help,

I’ll be chomped in two!

Jessica Nelson
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32
poetry prompt #32Jessica said: I usually write poems in two stages. I’ll have an initial blaze of inspiration, during which most of the writing happens. Then I’ll let the writing stew over the following days (or weeks), making small changes until it feels right.

Poem of the Day

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Mr Pickle’s Pet Shop

At Mr Pickle’s pet shop the choice is quite extensive.

It’s mystical and magical and not at all expensive.

Meet hairy dogs and scary dogs and one that yawns and yawns.

And playing in a nearby cage meet baby unicorns.

Meet fluffy cats and scruffy cats and one that’s always smiling.

Descended from a Cheshire cat, she really is beguiling.

 

At Mr Pickle’s pet shop the choice is quite extensive.

It’s wacky, weird and wonderful and not at all expensive.

Sitting in a large top hat, magicians’ rabbits wait.

One elegant white rabbit keeps insisting that he’s late.

Meet brown rats, black rats and some you can’t approach.

One claims a distant relative pulled Cinderella’s coach.

 

At Mr Pickle’s pet shop the choice is quite extensive.

It’s awesome and amazing and it’s not at all expensive.

Meet scowling owls and sleeping owls perched in a plastic tree.

There’s one that winks at pussy cats. He’d like to go to sea.

Meet blind mice, Miami mice and mice who have no tails.

They run and squeak, play hide and seek and terrify the quails.

 

At Mr Pickle’s pet shop the choice is quite extensive.

It’s curious, chaotic and it’s not at all expensive.

Meet rare, red romping dragons. No one’s quite sure of their ages.

But Mr Pickle says they MUST be kept in fireproof cages.

Meet fruit bats, cute bats, a vampire bat called Guzzle.

And just in case he misbehaves, he has to wear a muzzle.

 

At Mr Pickle’s pet shop the choice is quite extensive.

It’s bold, bizarre and beautiful and not at all expensive.

Meet frogs who change to princes if they receive a kiss.

Meet friendly bugs who give you hugs and snakes who simply hiss.

If you deserve a special pet to tell your troubles to,

Please visit Mr Pickle’s shop and tell him I sent you.

 

At Mr Pickle’s pet shop the choice is quite extensive.

It’s fabulous and fanciful and not at all expensive.

Pat Simmons
First published by Thynks Publications in their anthology 50 Funny Poems for Children.
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32

poetry prompt #32