Fiesta in the Fridge

This little poem/story was written 21 years ago after my first daughter was born.  Children are immensely inspiring.  I thought it might be fun to share now with the world. Consider it a little celebration of the soon to be released Canada’s Food Guide. Enjoy and bon apetit!  It was written by myself and my daughters aunt Jane Gallinaugh, a very creative and talented gal.  My illustration above delivers some of the flavour (pardon the pun) in it’s creation.

Fiesta in the Fridge

Hey can you tell me I want to know more.

What really happens when you close the fridge door?

 

I’ve heard that inside the parties are thrown.

The lettuce comes alive and gets on the phone.

 

He calls all his buddies from far and from wide.

The freezer, the crisper, the shelves on the side.

 

The juices of apple and orange dance a jig.

So do the peaches and one lonely fig.

 

The carrots and parsnips catch up on their news.

The eggplant is sporting a new pair of shoes.

 

The butter plays piano, the milk plays the drums.

The cheese plays the sax, but alas, he’s all thumbs.

 

The sausage and corn cob sing country tunes.

The jalapeno pepper is banging the spoons.

 

The ketchup, the mustard and relish go round.

They size up the wieners and burgers by pound.

 

The pizza is schmoozing and winking one eye.

The lemon shakes hands with the chocolate cream pie.

 

The haddock and lobster are charming the trout.

But there is a square off with the dill and sauerkraut.

 

The whole wheat and mayo have fun playing darts.

The mushrooms get fresh with the artichoke hearts.

 

The salsa is spicy, the tomatoes a bore.

The French fries play twister all over the floor.

 

The ice cream is twirling then dips the cup cake.

The string bean does the limbo and tries not to shake.

 

The celery is showing a bit too much leg.

The parsley tells a joke that cracks up the egg.

 

The mangoes and kiwi are ready for bed.

The cuke’s acting crazy with a lampshade on his head.

 

The ham slice is gasping, “Who cut the cheese?”

The all-beef baloney blushed, “Please excuse me!”

 

The garlic and onions are smelling quite raw.

The freezer is warming and things start to thaw.

 

Just when the melon is blowing his stack.

The rutabaga yells “ Someone’s coming for a snack!”

 

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