Poetry: Gastronomic Lamentations

Nov 26, 2009 by

We thought this poem would be enjoyable for those celebrating Thanksgiving today in the United States.

(Don’t live in the U.S.? We would love to have submissions that share glimpses of holidays in your part of the world!)

~By Dianne Billstrom

When I site down
To a scrumptious meal,
I can’t describe
The passion I feel.

Pass the meat,
Gravy, potatoes,
Peas, corn, olives,
Stuffed tomatoes.

Spinach, broccoli,
Brussel sprouts,
I will even eat

It doesn’t matter
How I am sated,
Or what cuisine,
Or how it’s plated.

Simple spread
Or fantastic feast,
When I see food,
I become a beast.

My desire, to taste
Each and every bite,
Limited only if
My pants grow tight.

LDS women aren’t always serious and do have a sense of humor. In face, my sense of humor has helped me not tho take my self so seriously. Once, I heard one of my kids say, “Give it to mom, she’ll eat anything!”


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