[NicknamedBob]

French Fries!

I used to make the French Fries,
At the restaurant down the street.
They are not made that way today.
Too bad, ‘cause it was neat!

We hauled the spuds up from the dark,
And coolness underground,
And then we peeled them in a wink,
With a machine that spun around.

The next step was to slice them up.
We did it all by hand.
With leverage, and criss-cross blades,
Just like somebody planned.

And then we had to rinse them,
To get the starch to rout!
Then off to heated cookvats,
To drive the moisture out.

We took a break then, Spuds and I,
To wait upon the crowd,
So when the hunger stirred itself,
No waiting was allowed!

We cooked the fries up quick as toast,
And sprinkled them with salt.
Nobody claimed their failing health,
Was someone else’s fault!

They just chowed down on French Fries,
And then came back for more!
Because we gave them quality,
That was worth paying for!

Our French Fries were delicious,
I firmly can attest.
I tasted every batch we made,
(But I made them the best!)

NicknamedBob . . . . July 12, 2005

[Billie]

I think we're going to have French Fries for dinner. :)

Hi, Bob! Thanks for the cute poem!

[tuliptree76]

*applauds*

[The Mayor]

Good to see you here my friend.. : )

Excellent work! I love old fashion fries.

[ST.LOUIE1]

I like it! Cute poem.

[JustAmy]

LOL ...... Happy French Day.

I knew you could write a poem about anything. It is great to see you here.

Hope you don't mind if I use one of your poems today. I'm planning to use it when I set a table. :)