August Poem of the Month contest

For the month of August, the Poem of the Month prompt is: Write a poem about food. This is the time of year for fresh, abundant fruits and vegetables, backyard barbecues and canning or preserving your early harvests. The best food poems should leave a pleasant aftertaste.

When your poem is finished, copy and paste it as a comment on this post. Be sure to include the poem’s title, your name and your township of residence.

Happy writing!

About Stacia M. Fleegal

York Daily Record multiplatform journalist. Degrees in creative writing from Lycoming College and Spalding University, and a coupla books with my name on them. Central PA native who came home after floating around for a while, but always grounded by words and the places and people I remember.
This entry was posted in Poem of the Month 2013, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to August Poem of the Month contest

  1. Kristopher Ivie says:

    Deviled Egg
    by Kristopher Ivie
    (Hellam township)

    You emerge from the heat
    To be broken and stripped
    Your body divided
    Through its milky white flesh
    Your heart to be transformed
    Into a yellow paste

    You’re cut by the dozen
    Then laid out side by side
    Covered up and then chilled
    While they mash your insides
    Pulled out to be refilled
    With your liquefied heart

    You are neatly arranged
    And then decorated
    A red dusting of death
    Over your cold remains
    Then you’re covered back up
    And placed into a fridge

    When you next see the light
    It’s a hot sticky day
    A light condensation
    As flies start to gather
    And then a sensation
    Of fingers on your flesh

    You’re being squeezed lightly
    Your filling drips over
    Being lifted upwards
    Ascend like an angel
    Up to the pearly gates
    Of a bottomless pit

    Teeth are plunged into you
    Sliced in half once again
    This time you’re dissolving
    Your essence spreading out
    Transformed into flavor
    A taste of the devil

  2. wayne wise says:

    A Summers Dream:

    In the shade I’m sitting on my favorite chair, a cool breeze
    off the ocean is blowing through my hair.
    A wet drink in my right hand the paper in my left, trying to
    avoid the heat until the sun has set.
    Sounds of burgers cooking are coming from my grill, I oughta
    go investigate I think, I should, I will.
    The aroma’s getting stronger with every step I take, it
    doesn’t smell like burgers I think it might be steak.
    As I open up the lid to try and take a peek, someone grabbed
    me by the arm and woke me from my sleep.

    It sure was very rude of them to wake me in this manner, I
    wish they would have waited till I finished all my dinner.

    Wayne Wise- York County Resident

  3. Tracy Hanegraaf says:

    Ode to Wapsipinicon Peach Tomato

    The peachy-glow globe of baby soft fuzz tantalizes,
    Slices of satiny Wapsipinicon Peach
    Golden cream-domed arches of a mild spicy, sweet
    Tempt your tongue to the delicate treat!
    Goddess-like, semi-eyes sopped with glistening dew-drop tears;
    Sultry, secret crevices drip in saturated sunshine.
    Sundown pausing in a pink sky,
    The Wapsipinicon Peach Tomato–
    August’s treasure of taste!

    Tracy Hanegraaf

  4. Tracy Hanegraaf says:

    York Township

  5. Pat Long says:


    It starts in April
    When the apple tree, covered with blooms, invites the bees to share.
    Soon the tree hums with their buzzing as they collect nectar.
    Yes, the sharing starts in April.

    It continues in May and June
    As the apples form, inviting various insects to lay eggs, feed larvae, who knows what else?
    I only see the telltale signs—holes, brown scaly patches, odd marks and shapes.
    So sharing continues through May and June.

    It’s more obvious in July.
    The birds and squirrels are attracted to the ripening fruit.
    I see them sit on branches and eat—birds reaching down pecking bits, squirrels holding apples and munching.
    Sharing becomes more obvious in July.

    It accelerates in August
    As apples ripen and fall when the wind blows.
    Rabbits and ants quietly join the feast; wasps sip the soft fruit; even the groundhog returns.
    I only see him when the apples fall in August.

    Now it’s my turn.
    The apples aren’t beautiful or perfect, but good enough for pies and applesauce.
    And so plentiful—enough to freeze for winter and share with grandchildren.
    I watch them enjoy the tart, sharp flavor of summer’s end.

    Pat Long
    West Manchester Township

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