henrietta is my hen.


Your Eggs Henrietta

I sometimes place them to chuckle in oil
With a large smidgen of salted butter
Until the two of them stare
With sunny eyes not runny...

Or I coddle them
Along with smoky salmon
To canoodle me my pleasure.
Sometimes I boil them hard
Being careful to cool them
Rapidly so as to avoid
The black rim that can surround
The yolk.
So very unattractive!

Sometimes I quite specifically
Omlette them-
Sometimes we are fritatta!

Just lately Henrietta
You appear to be laying funny.

Your eggs are cracking me up
As you let me polish your
Busy beak.






Poetry by limber junctionson
Read 700 times
Written on 2008-07-30 at 02:41

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Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Ah Henrietta needs lots of coddling then to make the ultimate egg benedict :)

Elle x
2008-07-30