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I love you onion I'll tell you why in part because you make me sigh, you are everything to me the song my Mother sang... a whimsical, sad and poignant little tale I hear you crooning & the radio tuning my Mother knew me better than I'd like to think, singing ... Lonely 'Lil petunia in an onion patch a bittersweet memory of all the saddest words that I have ever heard the saddest is the story told me by a bird tears fall from a pungent smell when I cannot forgive, say you'll never tell and in tears of laughter   when I'm tickled seeing the inchworm in the shape of a finger a moment comes,   I stay and linger climbing like a spider singing me a verse Spent about an hour chatting with a flower and here's the tale he told as you're peeling layers, & hearing prayers revealing honesty and depth of flavor intoxicating waifs I sniff and savor kept safe by a sturdy skin cooking you I start, begin chopped fresh and finely diced or maybe even thinly sliced for summertime franks, not the Ballpark kind these I doubt you'll ever find homemade baked beans that you adorn and grace a smiling sweet, lil' onion face everything made from scratch gleaning my lil' onion patch in toasted rolls, whole grain mustard potato salad... best I can recall my Mother took the time to make in everything she cooked and baked you're in all my memories though you're in so much more I've never shared with you this love I have before Onions are adaptation at its finest fresh, sauteed with butter translucent sweetness Elevating anything you touch they cry, and laugh and give so much dried, grated..slightly dated... even hated, chopped up.. or roasted, grilled... so very skilled any way you slice it even if you dice it differently delightful and delicious smart for recipes, even onion haters appreciate the graters sometimes your in  disguise a lovely found & welcome surprise must be I have something in my eyes as the flower continues to sing a joyful gift my onion brings familiar sounds songs I sing petunia continues who put me in this bed I'll bet his face is red I call him down with every teardrop that I shed   then she said if only I had him here I would take him by his ear and make him share my misery I'm cooking homemade onion chips, rewound on old-time family clips recall the fresh-squeezed lemonade while we're sittin' in the cooling shade a memory of you replayed so very glad you came & stayed   sippin' slow brewed iced tea my lil' onion friend and me. Cherie Nolan© 2016
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Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
"An Onion Tale"
I love you onion I'll tell you why in part because you make me sigh, you are everything to me the song my Mother sang... a whimsical, sad and poignant little tale I hear you crooning & the radio tuning my Mother knew me better than I'd like to think, singing ... Lonely 'Lil petunia in an onion patch a bittersweet memory of all the saddest words that I have ever heard the saddest is the story told me by a bird tears fall from a pungent smell when I cannot forgive, say you'll never tell and in tears of laughter   when I'm tickled seeing the inchworm in the shape of a finger a moment comes,   I stay and linger climbing like a spider singing me a verse Spent about an hour chatting with a flower and here's the tale he told as you're peeling layers, & hearing prayers revealing honesty and depth of flavor intoxicating waifs I sniff and savor kept safe by a sturdy skin cooking you I start, begin chopped fresh and finely diced or maybe even thinly sliced for summertime franks, not the Ballpark kind these I doubt you'll ever find homemade baked beans that you adorn and grace a smiling sweet, lil' onion face everything made from scratch gleaning my lil' onion patch in toasted rolls, whole grain mustard potato salad... best I can recall my Mother took the time to make in everything she cooked and baked you're in all my memories though you're in so much more I've never shared with you this love I have before Onions are adaptation at its finest fresh, sauteed with butter translucent sweetness Elevating anything you touch they cry, and laugh and give so much dried, grated..slightly dated... even hated, chopped up.. or roasted, grilled... so very skilled any way you slice it even if you dice it differently delightful and delicious smart for recipes, even onion haters appreciate the graters sometimes your in  disguise a lovely found & welcome surprise must be I have something in my eyes as the flower continues to sing a joyful gift my onion brings familiar sounds songs I sing petunia continues who put me in this bed I'll bet his face is red I call him down with every teardrop that I shed   then she said if only I had him here I would take him by his ear and make him share my misery I'm cooking homemade onion chips, rewound on old-time family clips recall the fresh-squeezed lemonade while we're sittin' in the cooling shade a memory of you replayed so very glad you came & stayed   sippin' slow brewed iced tea my lil' onion friend and me. Cherie Nolan© 2016
For my Mother - used to sing me lonely little petunia inan onion patch https://youtu.be/PtMQa1sSW_g Smile everyone! Beautiful here!
Moi-Cherie
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Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
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