Grits, they say with a start
as if they are a foreign treat
I love to have them with other food
in deeming them very good to eat.
Could care less when they react
like when they turn up their nose
Seems they never gave them a chance
but I can only guess or suppose.
I like grits as a side dish
often add a few chunks of cheese
and no matter what they have to say
they go down slow and with such ease.
You go a head and laugh
I'll enjoy my grits to a tee
whenever you refuse to a new taste
imagine grits are a pleasure to me.
Del Cano April 20, 2009
Grits and Bear 'em!
I well remember that first time
Grits were placed there in my face
It was eggs over easy I liked fine
But these eggs set in my place?!
Eggs over easy to my way of thinkin'
Was eggs turned over keeping the yellow soft
But these eggs were sliming and slinkin'
O'er half my plate, running buff!
Movin' toward what looked to me
Thrown up milk from one of my kitties
It merged with the slimy runny eggs
Whole plate was white, was this just a tease?
Taking a chance I peeked at my sis
But she was talking and eating fine
Scrambled eggs and toast, heavenly bliss
All I could wish, that plate was mine!
Looked across the table, friend noticed me
Do you know what that is, I was asked.
Shaking my "no" begging her "please?"
"Why that there's grits, dear, corn that's smashed!"
In a public restaurant, my Mom would' ve said "eat"
But with those runny eggs and rambling corn
Not getting sick would be my great feat!
I sat back on my chair, hungry, forlorn...
Just then our waitress must have saw my face
"Not done 'nuf, honey? No grits for you today?"
Almost in tears, I nodded with grace
"Scramble them please, and grits? No Way!"
G. A. Bixler, April 30, 2009
Thanks so much for all who shared their poetry. When Spencer sent me this one, I just knew I had my own story on grits to tell! I was my sister's "model" when she took her test for beauty school. We were having breakfast on the first day...all her friends who were going to be tested and their models. There were about ten sitting around a big table and I was the youngest. I can still remember my feelings when I had that plate set in front of me. I knew I shouldn't make a fuss, and the school was paying for our meal so I felt I should eat it...
Well, Spencer, seeing those running grits invading those slimy runny eggs...put me off grits...for life! And I think of that time every time my sister, Dee, and I go out to eat breakfast and she orders...grits... Not for me, Please!
Poets, I welcome poetry throughout the year...so please feel free to share with me any time!