I like Prime-Pasta with good dinnerware;
it’s like spaghetti, but medium rare.
And with some A-1 to give it full bite,
sirloin-like pasta makes my dinner right.
Now I must tell you about Waffle Stew;
sometimes I’ll have it when I’m feeling blue.
Carrots and peas reconnoiter with dough,
simply because there is nowhere to go.
(I have to chuckle when the peas decide
to fill the pockets and dough for a ride.
Peas ala Eggo and carrots compete
as a stew-pendous new entree to eat.)
Then at sunrise with some Eggs-Oh-So-Bold,
as they command my plate, they don't get cold.
When I eat them I feel boldness exude;
they derive from chickens with attitude.
(Once when a ham and cheese sandwich was grilled,
folks in one borough of New York were thrilled.
A chef mishandled his dessert one morn;
that’s how the Bronx Cheesecake Sandwich was born.)
But nothing can beat Prime-Pasta for sure;
I’d like to cook it and have my own tour.
I could then open a fine eatery;
Outback, Italian, good taste harmony.
24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
October 19, 2013
(And, I’ll have you know, all puns are home groan.)
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