Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Purple pickle’s all the rage At Gustav’s stand of lemonades He sells them fast so don’t be late Or when you’ll want one they’ll all be ate He serves them out on cardboard plates And stores them in old wooden crates In which they float amongst sweet grapes That give the pickles their special taste And if by some odd twist of fate You’ve got no teeth, then try the paste! Purple pickle, mashed or stewed Fried in oil or fondued Try them now while they’re new For next week they might just be blue
0
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 8:19 PM UTC
Gustav's stand
Purple pickle’s all the rage At Gustav’s stand of lemonades He sells them fast so don’t be late Or when you’ll want one they’ll all be ate He serves them out on cardboard plates And stores them in old wooden crates In which they float amongst sweet grapes That give the pickles their special taste And if by some odd twist of fate You’ve got no teeth, then try the paste! Purple pickle, mashed or stewed Fried in oil or fondued Try them now while they’re new For next week they might just be blue
Thanks for reading!
ger
Written by
38
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 8:19 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem