Gumball #93 In a Pickle?
a silly poem - because I needed to laugh
Glass House what a pickle it could be to hang from a gherkin tree voices drift up from a picnic bench near by unaware, lost in thought soon to figured out someone spotted me a hand reaches up plucks me with ease if I had legs - I would surely flee e-gad!!! - remember the stories handed down from generation to generation thoughts race of what might transpire this pickle in a pickle - how will I be consumed? atop a grilled cheese sandwich on full display a gorgeous glistening garnish ...have to say weirdly enough have heard some crave pickles and ice cream along with a fetish or two leave me off pizza when pineapple can do deviled into eggs... what other devious ways shall become my demise? stabbed with a toothpick sword slid up next to the smug olive complete the dry martini, shaken, not stirred rather leave drunk if this the end please hear my plea get your hand off this gherkin a cucumber can do my fate awaits splashed into the brine ...oh look, there's Fred, he's quite a fine chap now high on a shelf, stuck in a jar we reminisce about clouds the stories they told moon phases milky way reflections and golden sunrises to dangle from our beloved gherkin tree play hide and seek amongst the greenery we hung around, enjoyed the breeze many try to swim in this jar of brine keep my head up, bob along as salt pickles our veins all these gherkins with the same plight packed in so tightly, this is not right too bad, such a pity shall dream about feathers how to take flight ©2025 Marjorie Pezzoli major update from the time of lockdown - 2020, silliness is still greatly needed
till next week - Marjorie
*writing stuff like this helps lighten my mood - past shares will fill you in why - grief is in my bones, thankfully can still laugh
Update: came across this upbeat pickle song by RenhaL - The Pickles’ Party
https://www.boomplay.com/songs/192594365 this was not included in my original post
Pickles and cucumbers have produced many words, and information, even complementing with natural activities increasingly giving the best color to this writing. Amazing
Gherkin is such a great word. When I was 13 somehow I found myself on my uncle's cucumber farm in Gilroy, California. We picked in the fields all morning, and I can assure that gherkins don't grow on trees. You have to really stoop for them.
I had a pickle just this afternoon with smoked salmon, goat cheese, and a rye cracker. Makes me hungry to remember it.
Let's all agree to let pizza's not have squirty, fruity, pungent, juicy things on them?? Maybe?
:)