A Sweet Ending to "Playing with Your Food Poems" Week

"Summer" (1573) by Giuseppe Arcimboldo

I've had food on my mind this week thanks to Rebecca Herzog's invitation to write a poem about a food that you feel is most deserving of its own national day. If there's one thing I've learned reading more than 1500 DMC poems over the last 5+ years, it's that food is always a popular subject!

So what did I do? I dubbed this "playing with your food poems" week at Today's Little Ditty and shared daily food-themed poems from this month's "Words at Play" padlet. Kim Norman's "Pecan't" was featured on Monday. (Enjoy National Pecan Day next year on April 14th.). On Tuesday, David McMullin treated us to "Papa Slime". (Sign me up for National Guacamole Day next year on September 16th!) Tabatha Yeatts' "Rosemarried" was featured on Wednesday. (Did you know National Herb Day is celebrated annually on the first Saturday of May?) And on Thursday, we enjoyed Cindy Breedlove's "Talking Turkey." The national day for turkey-feasting? Everybody knows that! (Time to stock up on pumpkin, squash, and stuffing, folks.)

"These are not the gourds you're looking for."

Today I'll be closing out our week of food ditties with three poems that appear in The Best of Today's Little Ditty 2017-1018.

Purchase your paperback or ebook copies HERE, or contact me if you'd like
one signed by me and Miranda (I have a few extra).

The first poem I'd like to share is Bridget Magee's excellent response to the "Personified Feeling Poems" challenge offered by Jeannine Atkins in February 2017.

Lisa Yarost

FRENCH FRIES WITH A SIDE OF OH MY 

Embarrassment squeezes between Julio and me
at the lunch table.
The ketchup packet feels
the pressure,
bursting in such a way
that Julio wears
the flush of my cheeks
for the rest of the day.

          – Bridget Magee, © 2017

Why of course there's a National French Fries Day! Mark July 13th on next year's calendar.


Next we have Rebecca Herzog's sweet response to the May 2017 challenge, in which Melissa Manlove asks us to compare writing (or a book) to something else.

B.B.

SLURPEE

Grab a cup
So excited

Top it off
Mind ignited

Great big sip
Tale united

Big brain freeze
Uninvited

Wince in pain
Muse indicted

Shake it off
All doubt blighted

Push on through
ending sighted

One last swig
Scribe delighted

                    – Rebecca Herzog

As you might have guessed, July 11th is Free Slurpee Day at 7-Eleven! Maybe not an official "national day," but as good a reason as any to celebrate, no?


Finally, when J. Patrick Lewis and Jane Yolen challenged us to write an epitaph poem in February 2018, Robyn Hood Black pulled this clever confection seemingly out of nowhere:

owlpacino

EPITAFFY

Pulled and stretched
in twists and turns -
picky permutation.

A chomp.  A chew.
The End. Of You.
(Sticky situation….)

                    – Robyn Hood Black

Yep. National Taffy Day is May 23rd on the 2020 calendar.


So there you have it. Although I would have liked to share a poem about a food that deserves a national day, apparently all seven of the food poems I've featured this week already have their own special days! Sheesh.

And now I'm hungry. Breakfast, anyone?

aulia.m

Be a good egg and join us, won't you?

zhouxuan12345678

If not a food poem with words at play, any ol' wordplay poem will do. Read Kate O'Neil's spotlight interview for more details, add your poem to the padlet, and stay tuned for next Friday's wrap-up celebration!

Many thanks to everyone who dropped by to help me celebrate the release of The Best of Today's Little Ditty 2017-2018 last week! I appreciated all of your kind congratulatory messages (and so did Miranda). Today I'm both touched and honored that Kimberly Hutmacher is showcasing the book and my poem "Don't Ask a Hopkinsaurus" at Kimberly Hutmacher Writes.

As previously mentioned, "Slurpee" poet Becky Herzog is hosting this week's Poetry Friday roundup. She's got more food poems and a smorgasbord of other poetry goodies at Sloth Reads.

DMC: "Talking Turkey" by Cindy Breedlove

Ihave3kids

TALKING TURKEY

Turkeys are jumpy and nervous this season.
They're feeling on edge but not sure of the reason.
They strut and act brave but I know they are bluffing.
On Thanksgiving Day they will be full of stuffing.
Their gobble is just a loud noise that they make.
Our gobble is how many bites we will take.

© 2019 Cindy Breedlove. All rights reserved.

TLD reader Kate O'Neil has challenged us to write a poem with words at play—malapropisms, ambiguities, unintended meanings, puns, clichés, etc. Read my interview with Kate HERE and add your wordplay poem to the padlet.

While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, November 29th.

DMC: "Papa Slime" by David McMullin

Ampersand72

PAPA SLIME

Ding dong

“Gerry,” Mom twitters, “that sounds like the chime.
Would you be so kind as to get Papa Slime?”
Just what is she saying? Who can this Slime be?
He sounds like some mutant from deep in the sea.
Or maybe a ghoul from some bottomless caves.
Regardless, I’m sure it’s my brain that he craves.

Diiing dooong

“Gerry.” says Mom, “Where’s your reason and rhyme?
Just answer the doorbell. We need Papa Slime.”
My parents have lost it or possibly worse,
I’m thinking they’re under this Papa Slime’s curse.
He’ll rip me to bits (what a terrible guest),
then stomp on the pieces and feast on the rest.

Diiiiiiiiiiiing doooooooooong

“Gerald Jay Jones! I won’t ask one more time.
Now open that door and receive Papa Slime!”
I sink to the carpet and slink ’cross the room,
then fling the door open expecting my doom.
It’s only my neighbor (he’s gentle and cute),
and there in his hands is a little green fruit.
He smiles. “Hey Gerry, you’re moving so slowly—
Your dad needs this lime for his fresh guacamole.”
Oops! Now I get it—there’s no Papa Slime.
My mom simply asked me to get Papa’s lime.

© 2019 David McMullin. All rights reserved.

TLD reader Kate O'Neil has challenged us to write a poem with words at play—malapropisms, ambiguities, unintended meanings, puns, clichés, etc. Read my interview with Kate HERE and add your wordplay poem to the padlet.

While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, November 29th.

DMC: "Pecan't" by Kim Norman

Pecans from Homestead and Gardens, by John and Anni Winings

PECAN'T

Autumn finds me and my neighbors outdoors,
tackling raking and gardening chores.
Nobody weights the crop; nobody counts it;
the running debate is how to pronounce it.

The couple next door, who can't know more than WE can,
insists that their specialty pie is a PEE-can.
Ed, on the corner, contends that our lawns
are salted and peppered with pounds of pe-CAWNS.

HE says we can't agree, I say we CAN
achieve a consensus about the pe-CAN.
The point of this ditty, you may have inferred:
I've harvested three different rhymes from one word!

© 2019 Kim Norman. All rights reserved.

TLD reader Kate O'Neil has challenged us to write a poem with words at play—malapropisms, ambiguities, unintended meanings, puns, clichés, etc. Read my interview with Kate HERE and add your wordplay poem to the padlet.

While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, November 29th.

DMC: "Epitaffy" by Robyn Hood Black

EPITAFFY

Pulled and stretched
in twists and turns -
picky permutation.

A chomp.  A chew.
The End. Of You.
(Sticky situation….)

© 2018 Robyn Hood Black. All rights reserved.


Click HERE to read this month's interview with J. Patrick Lewis and Jane Yolen. They have challenged us to write an epitaph poem—a funny or clever verse that might appear on your chosen subject's tombstone.

Post your poem on our February 2018 padlet. While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, February 23rd, and one lucky participant will win a copy of their morbidly humorous collection from Charlesbridge:

DMC: "Ode to My Mother's Popcorn Pan" by Doraine Bennett

ODE TO MY MOTHER'S POPCORN PAN

As you warm to the flame,
she holds your tented lid against your heavy frame
and scrapes your weight back and forth
until tender, sweet corn bursts inside.
The scent of butter calls us to the kitchen.
Do you remember the salty pleasure
of popcorn on Saturday night?

© 2017 Doraine Bennett. All rights reserved.


Helen Frost has challenged us to write an ode poem this month, following these instructions:  

Choose an object (a seashell, a hairbrush, a bird nest, a rolling pin). It should not be anything symbolic (such as a doll, a wedding ring, or a flag). Write five lines about the object, using a different sense in each line (sight, sound, touch, taste, smell). Then ask the object a question, listen for its answer, and write the question, the answer, or both.

Click HERE to read her sample poem, "Ode to a River."

Post your poem on our March 2017 padlet. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, March 31st, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her latest novel-in-poems from Farrar, Straus, and Giroux/Macmillan:

DMC: "Ode to Grapefruit!" by Cindy Breedlove

ODE TO GRAPEFRUIT!
 

I picked you for your pinkish tone
but pucker at your taste, and groan,
wiping juice off of my face,
inhaling tartness, but embrace
the whispered promise in my ear:
two sizes smaller in a year.

© 2017 Cindy Breedlove. All rights reserved.

Helen Frost has challenged us to write an ode poem this month, following these instructions: 

Choose an object (a seashell, a hairbrush, a bird nest, a rolling pin). It should not be anything symbolic (such as a doll, a wedding ring, or a flag). Write five lines about the object, using a different sense in each line (sight, sound, touch, taste, smell). Then ask the object a question, listen for its answer, and write the question, the answer, or both. 

Click HERE to read her sample poem, "Ode to a River."

Post your poem on our March 2017 padlet. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, March 31st, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her latest novel-in-poems from Farrar, Straus, and Giroux/Macmillan:

DMC: Blueberry haiku by Kathleen Mazurowski

Sweet, tart, tangy juice,
Regal sphere of indigo,
Nutritional star.

© 2016 Kathleen Mazurowski. All rights reserved.

Photo by Petr Kratochvil

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater has challenged us to write poems about small things— animals or objects you see everyday and don't give much thought. Click HERE for more details.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, March 25th, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her delightful nonfiction picture book:

Book Love: FRESH DELICIOUS

It's no secret that I love Irene Latham's work—
          her poetry for children, her poetry for adults, and her middle grade novels as well.

I also happen to love Irene's gracious personality and the authenticity with which she lives her life as a creative artist.  If I could hire her as my personal guru, I would.

Irene Latham was one of Today's Little Ditty's first Spotlight ON interviews, celebrating the release of DEAR WANDERING WILDEBEEST: And Other Poems from the Water Hole (Millbrook Press, 2014). This year she has two new collections of children's poetry— WHEN THE SUN SHINES ON ANTARCTICA: And Other Poems about the Frozen Continent (Millbrook Press, February 2016) and FRESH DELICIOUS: Poems from the Farmers' Market (WordSong, March 2016).

I've been excited about FRESH DELICIOUS since last summer, when a few of us were given a sneak peek at an SCBWI workshop with Rebecca M. Davis, senior editor for Boyds Mills Press and WordSong.  I'm pleased to finally be able to share that excitement with you!

FRESH DELICIOUS: Poems from the Farmer's Market
WordSong (March 8, 2016)  ISBN: 978-1629791036
Find at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, or at your local independent bookstore.

Let me start by saying,

this collection is as fresh and delicious as they come!

Twenty-one whimsical poems about farmers' market produce are paired with Mique Moriuchi's playful collage illustrations to delight readers from age 4 to 104. Although I won't be doing an in-depth review of FRESH DELICIOUS (Jama Rattigan already did a brilliant write-up on Jama's Alphabet Soup), I'd like to share my personal impressions and a couple of poems.

What appeals to me most about this collection is that it's chock full of wonder.  Several of the poems remind me of the work of another favorite poet, Valerie Worth. In writing her "small poems," Valerie Worth keenly examined ordinary objects to find each one's "mysterious poetry," as she called it,

"...a poetry still wordless, formless, inaudible, but asking to be translated into words and images and sounds—to be expressed as a poem. Perhaps it could be said that written poetry is simply a way of revealing and celebrating the essentially poetic nature of the world itself."  
        — from Lee Bennett Hopkins' NCTE Profile of Valerie Worth

Whether it's a fleet of green submarine cucumbers, basil butterfly wings, summer squash punctuation, or treasure chests of farm fresh eggs, Irene pays respect to that inventive process in FRESH DELICIOUS. With a flavor all her own, ordinary produce becomes extraordinary as we discover each fruit and vegetable's unique and unexpected character. Irene is masterful at capturing both the imagination and enthusiasm of her youngest readers as they discover the joys of healthy eating, right down to the handful of recipes at the back of the book.

I'm telling you, kids are going to gobble this book up... and their fruits and vegetables too! 

My favorite spread from FRESH DELICIOUS has two poems about corn-on-the-cob. When I approached Irene about sharing her corn poems, she sent me a scrapbook page that included this photo of her Granddaddy Dykes standing in front of his corn garden. Isn't it marvelous?

Irene says, "this book is very much tied to my memories of summers spent at my grandparents' Port Saint Joe, Florida home... back then I didn't need a farmers' market, because we WERE the farmers!"




Now, on to the poems.... 

The first one I'm sharing is a perfect example of what I was talking about earlier— the revelation of corn's unique and unexpected character.

Text © Irene Latham. Illustrations © Mique Moriuchi. Used with permission from WordSong.

CORN

I don't know
why

they call it 
an ear

when
I see

rows 
upon rows

of tiny
noses.

                                                  Oh, those noses!!! My heart is melting like a pat of butter. 

The second poem picks up where the first left off.

Text © Irene Latham. Illustrations © Mique Moriuchi. Used with permission from WordSong.

ABOUT CORN

Mama says
we call them
ears

for the way
they grow

on the sides
of the stalk—

pert
and tufted,

tilted
away from

one
another,

listening 
to the
sun.

Listen... did you hear that? 

The sun is saying don't miss out on the opportunity to share this charming collection of poetry with all the special mice, bunnies, and other little ones in your life!


Learn more about Irene Latham by visiting her website and blog– Live Your Poem.
Learn more about Mique Moriuchi at miquemoriuchi.com.

DMC: "Ketchup & Ice Cream" by Miranda Barnes

Ketchup & Ice Cream

"I love you, Ice Cream."

"I love you too, but Ketchup,

we won't work as two."

Till one day, there's a 

science breakthrough!

"So what if no one likes ketchup-

flavored ice cream?"

"Yes, that's true! And now,
I'll always be with you."

© 2015 Miranda Barnes (age 12). All rights reserved.

Marcus Ewert has challenged us to write love poems this month– about relationships that seem unrequited, but which end up being requited after all. Click HERE for more details.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, October 30th, and one lucky participant will win an autographed copy of his fabulous new picture book:

DMC: "The Automat" by Diane Mayr

THE AUTOMAT

One day, Grandma took
me to Manhattan.
Just the two of us.
Lunch at Horn & Hardart.

Up and down the rows
of windows we'd go.
Macaroni and cheese
in small bowls oozing
cheesy goodness.

Sandwiches cut into two
triangles, their fillings
invitingly exposed.

A hundred slices of pie
on a hundred china plates
behind a hundred
sparkling glass portals.

Feed nickels into a slot
and any one of those
was mine for the taking.

It was enough to take
my breath away.

© 2015 Diane Mayr. All rights reserved.

Lee Bennett Hopkins has challenged us to write a "ME poem" this month, based on one simple moment in your childhood that changed you in some way. Click HERE for more details.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration this Friday, September 25th, and one lucky participant will win an autographed copy of Lee's gorgeous new anthology:

August DMC Wrap-Up + Giveaway

Welcome to a feast   ...but not just any feast.

A feast fit for a dragon!    ...but not just any dragon.

Welcome to our feast for the old dragon who swallowed a knight ...and just about everything else he could stretch his jaws around.

"Can I get some ketchup with that?"

Today's luncheon celebration is a buffet of couplets: a cumulative poem that resulted from Penny Parker Klostermann's DMC challenge to come up with things we might feed the old dragon to avoid being swallowed ourselves.

I didn't quite know what to expect coming into this month, but what a terrific turnout! Dragon's belly may be bottomless, but it's not for lack of rhymed verse. The couplets were imaginative and all over the map. Wrangling more than a hundred of them into one story arc was a dragon-sized struggle all its own! I think you'll agree, though, it was worth the effort.   

Special thanks to Penny for feeding our muses with such a delectable challenge. And, if you were one of the many writers who participated, THANK YOU for joining in the lighthearted fun. Please know that I tried to keep contributions "unmolested" (only minor editing), but sometimes I did need to juggle the couplets around a bit to ensure that the story made sense.

Did I succeed? You be the judge.

All couplets are copyright 2015, and published with permission of the authors, who control all rights.





There Was an Old Dragon Who Swallowed . . .

                    Things from my refrigerator.
                    Albert Allen’s alligator.

                    Mr. Tobin’s fresh grown squash.
                    Edamame succotash.

                    Bacon, sausage, juicy steak.
                    Pudding, pies, and birthday cake.   (Penny Parker Klostermann)

                    Peanut butter mixed with jelly
                    spread on slices of pork belly.   (Patricia Podlipec)

                    Gold Rush apples, heirloom beets.
                    Free-range eggs, organic meats.   (Mary Lee Hahn)

                    Mashed potatoes, lima beans.
                    Guacamole, garden greens.   (Pat ...last name, please?)

                    A little salsa fiery and red
                    to fuel the fire inside his head.

                    Then gallons of sweet, sweet southern tea
                    to soothe the beast, and a smile for me?   (Martha O'Quinn)

                              Er... maybe not. Forget the smile.
                              This dragon will be here a while.   (M. H. Barnes)

                    Spinach-flavored ice cream treats.
                    Pizza topped with pickled beets.

                    Foot-long hot dogs swallowed whole.
                    Caesar Salad with the bowl.

                    Fresh-picked corn, cob, husks and silk,
                    and gallon jugs of chocolate milk.   (Vivian Kirkfield)

                    Sardine cookies topped with cheese.
                    Sixteen cups of black-eyed peas.

                    Baked Alaska, mincemeat pie.
                    Fifty flapjacks stacked up high.

                    Deviled eggs with okra bits.
                    Prunes complete with stony pits.

                    Chowder thick with chewy clams.
                    Salty, fat Virginia hams.   (LeeAnn Blankenship)

                    Maple syrup, really thick,
                    and a hot dog on a stick.

                    Peanut butter, black-eyed peas.
                    Old bananas, holey cheese.

                    Chocolate sauce, bacon strips.
                    Mustard and potato chips.

                    Green onion dip, sardines in tins.
                    Pepperoni, plump raisins.   (Joy Acey)

                    A mug of noodle soup to slurp
                    and cucumbers to raise a burp.

                    Some cookies sporting chocolate chips.
                    Maine lobster roll and New York strips.

                    A bit of burnt marshmallow stuff,
                    dark-roasted by a dragon's puff.   (Donna JT Smith)

                    Fizzy currant lemonade.
                    Magic pudding mother made.   (Maria Marshall)

                    And then some goodies so unique,
                    he tried to make them last a week:

                    Chocolate double-dipped rainbow.
                    Sunshine pie, topped with snow.

                    Baby giggle-glazed cupcakes.
                    Unicorn snort-frosted flakes.   (Tabatha Yeatts)

                    Spaghetti straps, Par-cheese-y and
                    Pool noodles and sweet Candy Land.   (Donna JT Smith)

                    Gravel candy, mud pudding pies.
                    Bushels of leaves that fall from the sky.

                    Lighting bugs that made his breath glow,
                    Then some roller-skates and he rolled down the road.   (Jessica Bigi)

                              Dear readers, I'll let you deduce
                              WHAT WAS IN THAT MAGIC MOUSSE?!!

       Just as he was was slowing down,
     a deep-fried feast from outside town
     wafted in on summer's breeze,
     bringing Dragon to his knees.

     With newfound vigor, pep, and zeal, 
     he winged his way to his next meal.   (M. H. Barnes)

                    Bacon-wrapped turkey leg.
                    Lemonade, corn dog, a keg.

                    Coke and deep fried butter balls...
                    (quick stop at the restroom stalls)

                    funnel cake, chocolate éclair –
                    I really think he liked our fair.   (Christine Rodenbour)

     Then all at once it dawned on me,
     we need a different strategy.
     Instead of food that satisfies,
     let's feed him ones that he'll despise!   (M. H. Barnes)

                    Moldy cheese and stale bread.
                    Cauliflower by the head.   (Rosi Hollinbeck)

                    Droopy lettuce, dressing on.
                    One half eaten slimy prawn. 

                    Chocolate covered pancake stack.
                    Stinky cod fish on its back.   (Ellen Leventhal)

                    Leftover green rabbit stew.
                    A fat vole, or maybe two.   (Maria Marshall)

                    Fermented juice, sour milk.
                    Moldy bits of months-old elk.   (Laura Law)

                    Pumpkinseeds and dragonflies.
                    Fishy eggs and froggy eyes.

                    Muskrat pie and rattlesnake.
                    The broken dock from down the lake.   (Buffy Silverman)

                    My dirty clothes and stinky socks,
                    and mudpies made with chocolate rocks.

                    My grandma's old refrigerator.
                    The rocket of a space invader.   (Gayle Krause)

     Suddenly, the rocket fired!
     Now he's hungry AND inspired...   (M. H. Barnes)

                    My keyboard letters - gulp- oh my!
                    He's burping words and I know why.   (Janie Lazo)

                    All my precious picture books!
                    And all the world’s untasty crooks.

                    Barking dogs and cozy cats.
                    Cowboy boots and tall straw hats.

                    And to slow that pony down,
                    a pony-riding circus clown!   (Sandy Lowe)

                    A sack of toys, the Naughty list.
                    An irate elf with shaking fist. 

                    The Grinch, The Lorax, and a Who.
                    Dr. Seuss, Things One and Two.   (Carol H. Crane)

                    Mary's little lamb in stew.
                    Little Muffett's spider, too.

                    Characters from fairy tales.
                    Even Jack's full water pails.   (Kristi Dee Veitenheimer)

                    Concrete, bricks and silverware.
                    Sweet Rapunzel’s golden hair.   (Kathleen Mazurowski)

                    Damsel dumplings in distress,
                    rescued from an Eton Mess.

                    Rattlesnake and python stew,
                    rubbery and hard to chew.   (Suzanne Olivante)

                    A golden horn from Little Boy Blue.
                    From Cinderella, her dancing shoe.

                    Leaves from a bean stalk that Jack grew.
                    Red Riding Hood's cape and basket too.   (Joy Acey)

     Dragon hungered for adventure –
     overseas, the villain ventured...   (M. H. Barnes)

                                        "I’ll scour ye water's tasty treats.
                                         Octopi eye, such lovely sweets!

                                         Come hither eels don’t be afraid.
                                         Slurrrrrp, an anemone parade.

                                         Rrrumble tummy, yes! Feed me more...
                                         Napoleon wrasse I adore.

                                         Mola mola yum, slip right in,
                                         love your chewy pectoral fin."   (Michelle Kogan)

     He reached the shores of Italy
     (though still as famished as could be).

     Whose door should Dragon knock upon?
     Our friend, Renée. Please do tell on...   (M. H. Barnes)

                                       "The first thing he did was study each nook–
                                        and then began swallowing book after book.

                                        I shooed him outside where he went all berserk.
                                        He swallowed my tools and disrupted my work.

                                        He swallowed my sander; ’twas truly grotesque.
                                        Then he swallowed the whole of my grandmother’s desk.

                                        He singed my hydrangeas, my daisies and quince.
                                        He swallowed hot peppers and didn’t once wince!

                                        We tried to entice him with pizza and sauce.
                                        But that only made him more snappish and cross.

                                        He flew down the street, where he swallowed a field.
                                        The people protested, the sunflowers squealed.

                                        What happened next I am loath to disclose…
                                        he swallowed a boy from his head to his toes!"   (Renée LaTulippe)

          Poor Renée's had quite enough,
          so I'll report the other stuff:   (M. H. Barnes)

                    Some extra dill pickles, the jar and lid too.
                    Leftover lasagna, and Tiramisu.   (Leane Gill) 

                    Some chocolate pie, banana fritter
                    (he spared the family babysitter).

                    The TV and the cottonwood tree
                    (both certified to be fat-free).

                    A moonbeam and the setting sun,
                    then Dragon said, "Oh my, what fun!"   (George Heidenrich)

                    A snack before he hit the hay…
                    in one fell swoop, HE ATE RENÉE!

     Then into bed, at last he parked,
     and dragon dreams soon popped and sparked.

     Next morning he recalled the feast
     we offered up to quell the beast.
     His hunger roared; his belly rumbled.
     "I'm going back," the dragon mumbled.

     But this time when he came to town,
     no one fussed or hung around.
     Sullen and a bit bereft,
     he helped himself to what was left:   (M. H. Barnes)

                    Grandma's huckleberry jam.
                    A dozen eggs, a can of Spam.   (George Heidenrich)

                    My cat’s canned food: Macaroni Mixed Grill.
                    Nana’s dragon soup and fish oil pills.   (Linda Mitchell)

                    The cupboard was bare as he took the last bite,
                    but he still hadn’t sated his big appetite.

                    He tasted a toaster, which was so delicious,
                    he ate the appliances, flatware and dishes.

                    The rest of my house was his luncheon buffet.
                    He swallowed the sheets and the bed and duvet.   (Mindy Gars Dolandis)

                    The pants, the overalls and shirts,
                    then socks and undies, blouses, skirts.

                    Sheets and towels, the clothespins crunched.
                    In goes the line; the wash - all munched.   (Linda Baie)

                    He chewed up the couches, recliners and tables.
                    Computers, TVs and electrical cables.

                    He snacked on the bathtub and, quick as a wink,
                    he savored the shower, the toilet, the sink.

                    He feasted inside the utility room
                    on washer and dryer and vacuum and broom.

                    He flew out the door but he didn’t get far,
                    ingesting a bicycle, trash can and car.

                    He gobbled the grass and the trees and the roses,
                    the patio furniture, sprinklers and hoses.

                    And after his dragonly pig out fiesta,
                    he lay in the sun for a noon time siesta.   (Mindy Gars Dolandis)

THE END

...or is it???

Here's an alternate ending, provided by Alayne Kay Christian:

                    And with a giant dragon smile
                    he ate my dirty laundry pile,

                    and greasy, grimy, dishes stack
                    along with clean ones in the rack.

                    This dragon maid could eat and eat.
                    I took a seat, put up my feet,

                    forgot the housework for a while,
                    and smiled a giant dragon smile.

 (I may have to hire Dragon to swallow my household chores!)            

Carol Varsalona gives Dragon the last word:

                    "You think I'm done but stick around
                    I haven't touched your luscious town."

Another fun ending, from Donna JT Smith:

                    Belching, burping bits of flame
                    Dragon felt no spark of shame
 
                    He doused the heat with Pepto Bismol
                    So he wouldn't feel so dismal
 
                    Vowed to forego those tasty fritters
                    And next time try some babysitters.


And this just in... 
          from Penny, our fearless ringleader dragonmaster: 

Just so you can rest easy at night and not worry that dragon may be lurking in your kitchen, I leave you with these reassuring couplets:

I just spied my dragon. He’s wiping his chin.
He has no restraint. I must rein him in.

He’s swallowed all month with hearty August-o—
each mouthful, each morsel, each crumb, and each crust-o.

So thank you fair writers—ye poets, ye sages
for plenteous bounty outside his book’s pages.

And as for you, Dragon, “Get back here, forthright!
Your story’s beginning. Here comes the knight.”

Phew! That was a lot of om-nom-nomming! 

If you'd like to add your couplet(s) to the story, you have until Monday, August 31st.  Send your lines to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right.

Participants in this month's challenge will be automatically entered to win a personalized copy of THERE WAS AN OLD DRAGON WHO SWALLOWED A KNIGHT by Penny Parker Klostermann, illustrated by Ben Mantle. (One entry per participant, not per couplet.)

Alternatively, you may enter the giveaway by commenting below.  If you contribute a couplet and comment below you will earn two entries in total. Comments must be be received by Tuesday, September 1st.

The winner will be determined by Random.org and announced next Friday, September 4th, when we reveal our new Spotlight ON interview and ditty challenge.

Good luck!

Today's Poetry Friday roundup is being hosted by the incomparable Sylvia Vardell at Poetry For Children.