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ohNoe Jul 26
when She's kissing passion into me
  grab squeeze those biscuits

when Her body's pressed so tight along mine
  grab squeeze those biscuits

when She's riding into ecstasy with me
  grab squeeze those biscuits

when She's bending over for whatever reason
  grab squeeze those biscuits

when we're hiking/running
  and She's just in front of me
    grab squeeze those biscuits

when we're standing in line for whatever...
  grab squeeze those biscuits

when She's wading in the waves
  in THAT bathing suit
    grab squeeze those biscuits

when She's lining up a putt in mini golf
  that perfect **** in a mini skirt
    grab squeeze those biscuits

when She's stepping out of the shower
  wrapping Her hair in the swirl of a towel
    grab squeeze those biscuits

when you're spooning naked after the swetest hottest ever lovemakig
  or waking up
  or the middle of night
  or whatever hour she nuzzles your neck
    grab squeeze those biscuits

when you've been married for fifty years
  and you still Love ALL of Her
    and She still digs your ****
      She'll grab squeeze those biscuits
Rhia Dec 2018
On the first day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: a bowl full of doggy food.

On the second day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: two sloppy kisses and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the third day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: twelve stuffed buddies, eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
Yet another poem written by my brother circa 2006-ish in honor of our illustrious beagle, Kirby. My family all marveled at the poem's accuracy.
amidst Jeffersonian opulence
the Prez broke bread with his
GOP poker face friends
to solve government gridlock
and sequester predicament trends

citizens of the republic
hopeful for nonsense to cease
sat at the table asking

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

Obama perused the wine list
boldly choosing a luscious Merlot
senators ordered the finest hors d'oeuvres
the guests were all aglow

numerous delectable dishes
were liberally splayed on the table
revelers sipped flowing vintages
wine a surefire icebreaker

sparkling crystal Lennox flutes
tinkled with convivial release
while America’s disenfranchised
voices ask

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

chutney meat, curried hens and
sweet walnut rainbow trout
the table a horn a plenty
the guests gorged on fine cuisine
a blessed nations bounty

the feast consumed
the Senators sated
said it was some
of the finest ever served
but the taxpayers only
got a peak of the banquet  
a whiff of senators nerve
and asked

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

the dessert cart was rolled in
with custards, cakes, creme brulee
cordials, cognac and VSOP tastes
rounded out the wholesome feast

when the check was presented
for payment all guests headed
for the door with haste
they told the waiter the bill of fare
was covered
by the guy asking...

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

Music Selection:

Andre Williams:
Pass The Biscuits Please

jbm
Oakland
3/7/13
Prathipa Nair Jun 2016
A dream when I was a kid
House made of my favourite biscuits
Like a normal brick house
There was a door and windows
Can have one when I wish
Filling the gap with another one
Only me, the owner can have
The innumerable biscuits of my wish
Hot coffee, the best friend of biscuits
Was given permission to
Join me in my biscuit house
Sitting on a chair with a plate of biscuits
Dipping one by one in my cup of coffee
Admiring my biscuit house with a twinkle !
I used to dream when I was a kid but now I hate biscuits :-)
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I used to stand in awe and watch Grandma making biscuits.
She’d take her wooden bowl, then dip the floor and sift it.
As snowy flour would drift to form a mound of just so much;
She’d form a crater lake of buttermilk and shortening with her loving touch.

She would smile and watch our faces as she squeezed the flour to goop
And transform the mess she made into dough that she would scoop.
A pinch she’d take and make a ball to flatten in her palm.
Then with her thumb she’d press it down, so gently and so calm.

With care she next would take the dough and place it on a pan;
A thumb print etched in dough as she continued with her plan,
To place the pats side by side until the pan was filled
By perfect rows all laid out with hands so quick and skilled.

That cozy pan she placed into an oven warmed just right
And closed the door to seal them in and cook them out of sight.
In timely care she’d pull them free, delicious golden browns
Setting fresh hot biscuits on the table, to banish morning frowns.

Now I stand in awe and think of all the biscuits she has made,
Of all the time her thumb has pressed, as her heart has prayed.
Life finds us now, her children, in life’s wooden bowls
And we feel her loving touch as she leaves her thumbprint on our souls.

For Grandma Mary Grace Kindley Davis
On the occasion of her 105th birthday, February 9, 2007
Presented to her at her Birthday Party the next day.
©2007 Michael S. Davis
My Grandmother had 13 children, 50 grandchildren, and more than 80 great grands at the time of her passing at 105, just a few months after her birthday. As a farming family, she made pans of biscuits for her family two and three times a day and continued to so so into her 90's. She made a LOT of biscuits. She also lived up to her middle name, Grace. Even after reaching 100 years of age, those of us visiting over night would find ourselves struggling in our middle age to get down on our knees in the sitting room before bedtime for our night time prayers.  I started writing this poem when she turned 100. It took me a while to reach a point where I felt i had something to give her. i think she liked it. Her response if she heard something negative about someone or heard something she really liked was the same words. A quiet "Oh my." The negative was a short prayerful one. The positive was a one where the "my" was drawn out to show her delight. I did get the drawn out one.

She was a remarkable woman. She attended church up until just a couple of weeks before her passing. Had played the piano and sang just a few months before. I can imagine being a member of the church she attended and getting up on Sunday morning, not wanting to go to church and then saying to yourself..."I bet Mrs. grace will be there - guess I just don't have an excuse."
We miss her dearly and still feel the imprint of her remarkable life upon our souls.

We miss her dearly and still feel the imprint of her remarkable life upon our souls.
Ben Jones Nov 2015
The chocolate digestive is a marvel of invention
Custard creams are sickly, but worthy of a mention
Shortbread can be gritty, steer clear of the cheap ones
For if you love your biscuits, your pockets must be deep ones

For perfect dunkability, the hobnob leads the field
But prone to going chewy if their packet isn't sealed
Bourbon creams can satisfy when nothing else is offered
Avert your eyes from pretzels, no matter how they're proffered

The lowly Garibaldi is an underrated treasure
A macaroon is excellent for eating at your leisure
Enjoy the home made cookies and the chocolate crispy nests
And save a pack of party rings for fobbing off on guests

But biscuits can be functional, with keen survival craft
A packet of pink wafers can be used to make a raft
Penguins can be hollowed out and used to smuggle crack
And if you throw a ginger nut, you'll always get it back

A Jaffa cake is handy as a snowboard for a spider
And flapjacks are a sustenance and energy provider
Wagon wheels are lethal when they're wielded by a ninja
Brandy snaps cure cancer with a tiny hint of ginger

Experiment with biscuits, they're a versatile thing
Try horizontal dunking or the highland shortbread fling
Keep a packet stashed away for when the end is nigh
And always have the kettle full, and milk in good supply
rhiannon Mar 2019
Once upon a time there was a brave girl called Alison Parker. She was on the way to see her mum Michelle Ramsbottom, when she decided to take a short cut through Wyre Forest.

It wasn’t long before Alison got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Bunny, but Bunny was nowhere to be found! Alison began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Bunny. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.

Unexpectedly, she saw a kind werewolf dressed in a black skirt disappearing into the trees.

“How odd!” thought Alison.

For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed werewolf. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.

Eventually, Alison reached a clearing. She found herself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from carrots, a house made from biscuits, a house made from cakes and a house made from pancakes.

Alison could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.

“Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”

Nobody replied.

Alison looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else’s chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.

A cackle broke through the air, giving Alison a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Bunny!

“Bunny!” shouted Alison. She turned to the witch. “That’s my toy!”

The witch just shrugged.

“Give Bunny back!” cried Alison.

“Not on your nelly!” said the witch.

“At least let Bunny out of that cage!”

Before she could reply, three kind werewolves rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. Alison recognised the one in the black skirt that she’d seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.

“Hello Big Werewolf,” said the witch.

“Good morning.” The werewolf noticed Bunny. “Who is this?”

“That’s Bunny,” explained the witch.

“Ooh! Bunny would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!” demanded the werewolf.

The witch shook her head. “Bunny is staying with me.”

“Um… Excuse me…” Alison interrupted. “Bunny lives with me! And not in a cage!”

Big Werewolf ignored her. “Is there nothing you’ll trade?” he asked the witch.

The witch thought for a moment, then said, “I do like to be entertained. I’ll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door.”

Big Werewolf looked at the house made from pancakes and said, “No problem, I could eat an entire house made from pancakes if I wanted to.”

“That’s nothing,” said the next werewolf. “I could eat twohouses.”

“There’s no need to show off,” said the witch. Just eat one front door and I’ll let you have Bunny.”

Alison watched, feeling very worried. She didn’t want the witch to give Bunny to Big Werewolf. She didn’t think Bunny would like living with a kind werewolf, away from her house and all her other toys.

The other two werewolves watched while Big Werewolf put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.

“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Big Werewolf. “Just you watch!”

Big Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from biscuits. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

Eventually, Big Werewolf started to get bigger – just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of biscuits, he grew to the size of a large snowball – and he was every bit as round.

“Erm… I don’t feel too good,” said Big Werewolf.

Suddenly, he started to roll. He’d grown so round that he could no longer balance!

“Help!” he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.

Big Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from biscuits and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Average Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.

“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Average Werewolf. “Just you watch!”

Average Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

After a while, Average Werewolf started to look a little queasy. She grew greener…

   …and greener.

A woodcutter walked into the clearing. “What’s this bush doing here?” he asked.

“I’m not a bush, I’m a werewolf!” said Average Werewolf.

“It talks!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I’d better take it away before somebody gets hurt.”

“No! Wait!” cried Average Werewolf, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the werewolf away under his arm.

Average Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Little Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from pancakes.

“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Little Werewolf. “Just you watch!”

Little Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from pancakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

After five or six platefuls, Little Werewolf started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.

He stopped eating pancakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.

But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Werewolf into the sky.

“Aggghhhhhh!” cried Little Werewolf. “I’m scared of heigh…”

Little Werewolf was never seen again.

Little Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from pancakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.

“That’s it,” said the witch. “I win. I get to keep Bunny.”

“Not so fast,” said Alison. “There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from carrots. And I haven’t had a turn yet.

“I don’t have to give you a turn!” laughed the witch. “My game. My rules.”

The woodcutter’s voice carried through the forest. “I think you should give her a chance. It’s only fair.”

“Fine,” said the witch. “But you saw what happened to the werewolves. She won’t last long.”

“I’ll be right back,” said Alison.

“What?” said the witch. “Where’s your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Bunny back.”

Alison ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from carrots and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.

Alison sat down on a nearby log.

“You fail!” cackled the witch. “You were supposed to eat the whole door.”

“I haven’t finished,” explained Alison. “I am just waiting for my food to go down.”

When Alison’s food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from carrots. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.

Eventually, after several sittings, Alison was down to the final piece of the door made from carrots. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Alison had eaten the entire front door of the house made from carrots.

The witch stamped her foot angrily. “You must have tricked me!” she said. “I don’t reward cheating!”

“I don’t think so!” said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. “This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Bunny or I will chop your broomstick in half.”

The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.

Alison hurried over and grabbed Bunny, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Bunny was unharmed.

Alison thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Michelle. It was starting to get dark.

When Alison got to Michelle’s house, her mum threw her arms around her.

“I was so worried!” cried Michelle. “You are very late.”

As Alison described her day, she could tell that Michelle didn’t believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.

“What’s that?” asked Michelle.

Alison unwrapped a doorknob made from biscuits. “Pudding!” she said.

Michelle almost fell off her chair.

The End
Mai H  Jan 2012
Biscuits
Mai H Jan 2012
You used to tease me about my fat-pants.
One button too tight, so I didn’t eat the biscuits.

I don’t eat the biscuits anymore.

Because they remind me of the taste in my mouth,
When I heard about you
And the crash
And the fact that you’re gone.
Terry Collett May 2014
I stood in line
to be weighed
in the bathroom
of the nursing home

Anne crutched herself
behind me
you haven't
got a chance in hell

of winning
that chocolate bar Kid
she said
I've seen more meat

on a butcher's pencil
stuck behind his ear
might win
I said

might fly
she said  
the kid in front of me
got on

the green metal scales
and the nun
moved the weight
along the top

not you Malcolm
she said
the kid got off sulkily
I got on the scales

and the nun
moved the weight
I looked at her
black and white

headdress
her pinched features
not you Benny
she said

I got off
and walked away
Anne awkwardly
got on the scales

holding herself
on her one leg
the stump
of the other

hanging there
best so far Anne
the nun said
told you Kid

you didn't
have a chance
guess not
I said

as she crutched herself
along side of me
not to worry
if I get the choco bar

I’ll give you
a quarter for being
a good friend
no other

in this *******
gets a look in
we went along
to our rooms

come in Kid
she said
I hesitated
come in

I want to
ask you something
I stood swaying
uncertain

what if
one of the nuns
comes along?  
what if I don't give you

quarter of the choc bar?
she said
I followed her in
to the girls dorm

no one else
was there
just she and me
she closed the door

with her backside
right Kid
I want you
to do me

a favour
favour?
I said
sensing uncertainty

hit my gut
yes I want you
to sneak along
to the kitchen tonight

and liberate
some biscuits
liberate?
I said

biscuits?
yes you know
what biscuits are
don't you

those hard things
with cream in the middle
or chocolate
on one side

I know what biscuits are
I said
but what do you mean
liberate?

take some
from the big tin
they have
on the shelf

in larder
take?
I said
you mean steal?

steal
take
liberate
whatever word

you want
to use Kid
what if I get caught?
don't get caught

but what if I do?
Anne sighed
sat on the edge
of her bed

I thought you
were someone
I could rely on Kid
not some cowardly custard

yellow belly
I looked
at her leg stump
sticking out

the other leg
reached to the floor
if you're really good
I’ll let you touch

my stump
she said
no need
I said

I'll try tonight
sneak down
after lights out
good Kid

she said
she took my right hand
and lay it
on the stump

and held it there
it felt warm
and soft
she let my hand go

good huh?
wish the rest
was there
she said

off you go
and don't get caught
I nodded
and backed out

of the room
seeing her cover
the stump
with her dress

and smile
see you
I said
you bet

she said
I walked away
thinking
of the big steal

of biscuits
unthought through
by my 10 year old brain
as yet.
A BOY AND ONE LEGGED GIRL IN A NURSING HOME IN THE 1950S
David John Mowers  Jul 2017
JEDI
You was like,
need your help...
I was: Yes,


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.


EAT MY BISCUITS!
u V p
***(K)

Those my biscuits,
Ban-dana Jean...
my comely soap.


(k) NIGHTED

Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.

You want to be an "activist?"  Go live on the streets..Ben Franklin lived on the streets, Karl Marx did also, Davy Crockett, come play with nothing.
Olivia Kent  Dec 2014
BISCUITS
Olivia Kent Dec 2014
I'm such a rascal you know.
I ate an entire packet of biscuits, just like they're going out of fashion.
All jammy and creamy, so sickly, sweet.
I am such a selfish gal.
Gave not one to the children.
I'm such a selfish witch.
The dog looked on so longing.
I saved none for my *****.
I smiled sweetly at her, a curt little grin, if you know what I mean.
I said, "no sorry , Blue, biscuits are only for humans, they're so not good for you!
Any excuse to eat them all, what else can a good girl do!
(C) Livvi
A little fun x
Julie Grenness Dec 2016
I was sitting by a pond one day,
Through sun motes came the glitter way,
A tiny fairy appeared,
"What's the matter, my dear?
I'll grant a wish, then disappear.."
What to wish for indeed,
A silly book to read?
Or, I know,
my cheeks a'glow,
An endless choccy biscuits pack,
Even if get hideously fat,
So, I asked her, that's that.....
Now I sit by my sunlit pond today,
Munching choc biscuits for ever and a day,
A *** of tea, biscuits neverending,
By my pond, bliss unending......
Feedback welcome, a fantasy....

— The End —