Let's see here, you are as  sweet as a vidalia onion,
as pretty as that bass down in Waldrop Creek,( been meaning to catch
him for awhile, I bet he's at least eight to nine pounds or..)
sorry, where was I ? Yes you are so pretty.
You are smooth as Mr Sims backyard whiskey and I might
add just as hard to control.
Your hair smells like a thousand tea ivory , so silky to hold.
You make me get all funny ******* inside, kind of
like that time they all dared me to jump from Hickory Knoll
into the water, what was I thinking? Jumped anyways.
Aint saying I can tell you just like that Shakepearing fellow
just how I feel,
but I sure would have you if you will have me!

Mustard greens and butter beans and sweet cornbread all around,
And don't forget the crookneck squash, fried a deep and golden brown.

Mounds and mounds of butter, on the corn and on separate plates,
And Jesus’ blessings, our bodies to his service, before we satiates.

Buttermilk biscuits, pull-apart-monkey-rolls and corn muffins too,
And braided bread baked tenderly by Grandmother, just for you.

Country Ham and red-eye, fried chicken and sawmill gravy,
Ready to entice with all things sav’ry.

Sweet Vidalia onions sautéed in bacon fat,
‘Cause Big Daddy always knows, just where it’s at.

We gather together, hand in hand, pressed cheek to cheek in glee,
Our hearts knitted in happiness, we are family!

Biscuit and sorghum syrup happy faces with Georgia peach butter and blackberry muffins , childhood favorites that tickle the palette !
For a bag of Fall persimmons , a handful of roasted pecans I would gladly cross the Alcovy River naked as a jaybird !
Rutabagas , turnips and cracklin cornbread would be my staple of choice if marooned on an island , a Frosty Root beer and mothers egg custard !
Peach ice cream and scuppernong jelly , fig preserves and tomato gravy !
Columbus grits and Claxton fruitcake , Vidalia onion rings , Elijay apples !
In my next life I relish the very thought of becoming a Cardinal , turned loose in a muscadine arbor ! The most heart stopping  , meanest scarecrow ever made would be no match for a wise old crow in a watermelon patch ! Mockingbird busy in a old plum tree , a honeybee in a clover field as far as the eye can see !

Why do you make me cry?
Hidden between bread and
four turkey slices.
Hold's a delight so wonderful,
I can't describe.
Some bitter, some sweet.
Oh they're sure a treat to eat.
Red, White, Vidalia sweet.
My tummy screams, heartburn,
it begins. Prilosec OTC, not again.
Those **** onions, they always win.
© 2012 Christina Jackson

Please one more time tonight
I gotta get right before Sunday service
Pinhole pupils gouged by beauty
I am in love with the store clerks
Ringing up ciggarettes and vidalia onions on their cash registers
I just want to come over that conveyor belt
And kiss them

Dilated impulse control
Has me reaching out into the darkness
Looking for your hand
I'm not alone
In my head at least
You lie next to me

It feels a little bit like life in here
Away from the noise and the din
Have a shotgun barrel beneath my chin
Thinking of rebirth and a god with eyes

I load up .6
Just for the hell of it

I just want to see
If I'll wake up tommorow
And find you still sleeping on my ribs

We have freely received the Earths bounty and her many blessings bestowed upon Mother Georgia ! Thankful for meandering rivers , cascading waterfalls , Lake Lanier , Oconee , Allatoona and West Point ! Breath taking Appalachian mountains , sunflower swept valleys , picturesque Atlantic coast ! The Summer breeze of June , songbirds of Spring and the myriad color of leaves in October ! Mountain apples , cotton , peanuts , sweet potatoes , Vidalia onions ! From the vibrant Atlanta skyline , cities of Columbus and Savannah to the sleepy villages of Franklin and Bostwick ! Church bells announce the Dawn in quiet mountain hamlets , seagulls searching the shores of Tybee Island , farm tractors turn the fields in Tifton , Spanish moss swaying in the breeze in Valdosta !

The big doors roll open

at sunrise        at sunset

they roll closed

the man with the hand truck

moves his bins and flats

his palette loads       across the lot


Living downhill

from a fruit stand

I’ve come to accept

that joy can appear

at your feet

Red Delicious, Braeburn

Fuji and maybe

D’Anjou on a good day

Valencia Vidalia or Walla Walla

Sweet

Reach down       pick up


Be open hearted         don’t

expect too much--

the little that comes your way

tastes in its scarcity

full of life       this life       your life


I pray uphill in the morning

and I pray uphill at night

to the God of Gravity                                *Satsuma!

“Your honey plenty crispy”

nothing in the fridge to eat,
I, Grumpy Mcgrupy, intone
to those responsible for its
fulfillment and my well being

the greek yogurts all have passed
their expiration date, silent assassins,
the cheese bin international emptied
of American and Swiss citizens,
the remainder wrapped in white in
languages not spoken

the produce drawer, naked in its drawers,
except for a sweet Vidalia onion from Georgia,
which is just no good for fresh direct eating,
besides, my tears, copious already
at my state of famination ruination

final recommendation textual arrives,
a solitary fresh honey crisp appe in the fruit bin,
which in desperation I inhaled while
writing poetry in the bathtub

text my pleasure at this last resort,
with a shopping list to which the response comes
in a tone of high moral ground, teasingly defensive,


Your honey plenty crispy!

rendered speechless but her words
added too,
to the shopping list...

An appetizer, essentially an
out of this world guacamole
quasi Neptune salad,
regarding self taught cook
earning prized counterpart
five Michelin stars,
when the missus artfully, carefully,
cannily, decorously, deftly,
and happily prepared
earlier today June 21st, 2024
for her favorite buzzfeeding nincompoop

otherwise known as yours truly
barley distilled friggin
human impractical joker,
(who just learned
how to walk ***** this morning)
gifted with absolute zero
sense and sensibility,
nevertheless whose modest
absinthe pride and prejudice
subsequently qualified him as Übermensch,

and admirable taste tester de jure
concerning culinary pop slop queen
cuisine of Schwenksville
of aforementioned dish
prepared courtesy unsung chef
at 2 Highland Manor Drive:
she made with the following ingredients:
vidalia onions, progresso tomato bisque,
pickles, gluten free pasta
cooked leftover coffee and filtered water
and crushed nature's promise tomatoes.

After above culinary creation completed,
she slaved away mostly all of yesterday
concocting pièce de résistance meatloaf entrée
fit for her kingly gourmand,
which complements included
butterball ground Turkey
peppered with green beans and corn
essentially the remaining bulk
made from everything
including the kitchen sink
plumbing the depths of innovation
remembering aromatic, emblematic, and idiomatic
savory eats of home and hearth
of Old Rotten Gotham
sliding into the behavioral sink.

When frequently motivated
me once upon a time little butterball
oven admirable spouse dons toque
(chef's hat that dates back to the 16th century.

Different heights may indicate rank
within a kitchen and the number of folds
can also signify a chef's expertise,
with each pleat representing
a technique that has been mastered.

As testimony to a successful endeavor
an array of cooking accouterments
(including scads of disparate utensils
plus various and sundry leftovers)
truthfully and essentially
Unrecognized Food Objects in refrigerator
constituted stock in trade scullery.

After successfully cooking,
expending and buzzfeeding me
a veritable Smörgåsbord
the industrial wife
(with just enough energy to spare)
readied herself to potschke
with assortment of ingredients,
she (the pleasingly plump wizard -
me ***** tonk woman),
whipped wonderfully wrought

provisions for the palate
one of a kind ruthless babe
(wrapped herself in homemade
swiftly tailored pigs in blanket)
aforesaid entrée fit for gourmet
capped first course
with snicky snack sammich hors d'œuvre
a combination of almond butter
(whole nuts crushed in blender),
unsweetened almond milk
topped with Welch's grape jelly.