Plump juicy pickled onions
In the bottom of the jar
I can’t reach with a normal fork
Because they don’t reach far
I went down to the kitchen shop
With my old spaniel plodder
To buy the special thing I need
A longer pickle prodder
The salesman was delighted
As I took my pickles out
Their pickle prodders were the best
Of that he had no doubt
His pristine plated pickle prods
Produced to proddle pickle
Placed with precise precision
For pickles feeling fickle
He proddled nearly half an hour
Chased pickles near and far
But when he’d done I had no need
I just bought a smaller jar
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
That is very cute and very thoughtful. You know you're a good writer if you can write a poem about pickles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great tongue twister here written in poems...lovely in fine rhymes...10