.5. In A Pickle Poem by David Threadgold

Plump juicy pickled onions
In the bottom of the jar
I can’t reach with a normal fork
Because they don’t reach far

I went down to the kitchen shop
With my old spaniel plodder
To buy the special thing I need
A longer pickle prodder

The salesman was delighted
As I took my pickles out
Their pickle prodders were the best
Of that he had no doubt

His pristine plated pickle prods
Produced to proddle pickle
Placed with precise precision
For pickles feeling fickle

He proddled nearly half an hour
Chased pickles near and far
But when he’d done I had no need
I just bought a smaller jar


© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes