Jars & Pickles
Our George was a pickler,
pickles were his number,
pickled eggs and cucumbers,
and pickled meats for supper.
He kept ‘em all in pickle jars,
some small, some large, some, round
and they were in his out house
where pickles would abound.
Some had pull tops, screw tops, twist,
some were sealed with paper, greased,
he'd strive to fill them up with treats
as his wife Lilly loved her treats.
Oh yes Lilly loved a pickle,
cauliflower was new and so
George would endeavor
to pickle quite a few.
Oh yes George loved to pickle
and finally broke through
when he made his dear wife Lilly
the proudest gal, tis true
for there upon the table,
all tied up with string
was a jar called Piccalilli,
that made ol' Lil's heart zing!
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Comments about this poem (Jars & Pickles by Ruth Walters )
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