Sausage – v5

A short tale of whimsy, a trifle,
a bit of confection, of spice
Forget the frank, the hot dog -
Give me the Fenway sausage.
Lansdowne or Yawkey, just give me the street,
the crowds, the carts, the smells.
Sausage you shrug, you, the reader,
of this trifle, this whimsy -
 
What do I mean, me the storyteller?
Read on, won’t you please.
 
Sliced bell peppers and big chunks of onions
gathered, lathered, on the fresh bun,
they tempt the palate, tease the tongue,
open wide the bun and spread hot mustard
set the stage, the moment, for the star…
the scorched and blackened piece of meat
reminds me of every sausage, each one,
I have eaten before.
 
So much memory, in the tastes,
treasure beyond measure, of family and fun
of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie;
a cacophony of moments
dripping with that same grease.
Do you smell it too, sizzling,
on the smoky hot grill?
 
My lips curl with a smirk
as I write these lines for you,
as I laugh to myself, again,
of the pleasures of excess
and the lusty gluttony
of eating. . . another one.
 
==============
Edited and posted October 8, 2024
Sausage – v5
Typed October 16, 2024
 
&
Edited August 21, 2023
Sausage – v4
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2023/08/sausage-v4.html
edited December 28, 2015
Sausage – v3
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2015/12/sausage-v3.html
(editing version 2)
Edited  September 21, 2012
“Sausage – v2”
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/sausage-v2.html
posted February 14, 2004
written May 27, 2001 8:54am
Sausage
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/02/sausage.html
 
All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com)  for usage. See all 53,000+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
 
America, Family, memories, sausage, mustard, New Hampshire, poetry, Poetry Where You Live, Raymond A. Foss, taste, smells, Writing Poetry, Red Sox, Yawkey Way, Landsdowne Street, Boston, Fenway Park, hot dog,
 
#America #Family #memories #sausage #mustard #NH #taste #smells #Poetry #RedSox #RedSoxNation #Boston #FenwayPark @RedSox #writingpoetry

Sausage - v5

A short tale of whimsy, a trifle,

a bit of confection, of spice,

Forget the frank, the hot dog - 

Give me the Fenway sausage.

Lansdowne or Yawkey, just give me the street, 

the crowds, the carts, the smells.

Sausage you shrug, you, the reader,

of this trifle, this whimsy - 

What do I mean, me the storyteller?

Read on, won’t you please.

Sliced bell peppers and big chunks of onions

gathered, lathered on the fresh bun,

they tempt the palate, tease the tongue,

open wide the bun and spread hot mustard

set the stage, the moment, for the star,

the scorched and blackened piece of meat

reminds me of every sausage, each one, 

I have ever eaten before...

So much memory, in the tastes,

treasure beyond measure, of family and fun

of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie;

a cacophony of moments

dripping with that t same grease.

Do you smell it too, sizzling,

on the smoky hot grill?

My lips curl with a smirk, a laugh,

as i write these lines for you,

as I laugh to myself, again,

of the pleasures of excess

and the lusty gluttony

of eating. . . another one.

============== 

Edited October 8, 2024

Sausage - v6

Edited August 21, 2023

Sausage – v4

https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2023/08/sausage-v4.html

All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for usage. All of my poems are at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

#Sausage – v4 #hotdog

Forget the frank, the hot dog -
Give me the Fenway sausage.
Lansdowne or Yawkey, just give me the street,
the crowds, the carts, the smells.
Sausage you shrug, you, the reader,
of this trifle, this whimsy -

What do I mean, me the storyteller? 
Read on, won’t you please.
 
Peppers and onions
tease the tongue,
bun and hot mustard
set the stage, the moment,
the scorched and blackened piece of meat
reminds me of every sausage, each one,
I have eaten before.
 
So much memory,
of family and fun
of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie;
a cacophony of moments
dripping with grease.
Do you smell it too, sizzling,
on the smoky hot grill?
 
My lips curl with a smirk
writing these lines
as I laugh to myself
of the pleasures of excess
and the lusty gluttony
of eating. . . another one.
 

==============

Edited August 21, 2023

Sausage – v4

https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2023/08/sausage-v4.html

edited December 28, 2015

Sausage – v3

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2015/12/sausage-v3.html

(editing version 2)

Edited  September 21, 2012

“Sausage – v2”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/sausage-v2.html

posted February 14, 2004

written May 27, 2001 8:54am

Sausage

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/02/sausage.html

 

All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com)  for usage. See all 53,000+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

 

America, Family, memories, sausage, mustard, New Hampshire, poetry, Poetry Where You Live, Raymond A. Foss, taste, smells, Writing Poetry, Red Sox, Yawkey Way, Landsdowne Street, Boston, Fenway Park, hot dog,

 

#America #Family #memories #sausage #mustard #NH #taste #smells #Poetry #RedSox #RedSoxNation #Boston #FenwayPark @RedSox #writingpoetry

He walked the walk we walk

He walked the walk we walk

growing up in New England

whatever their standing, the season,

cheering for our Red Sox

 

A friend to everyman

because he was one himself

living out our childhood dreams

playing for our Red Sox.

 

He walked the walk we walked

under the Curse of the Bambino

He shared every dream we have

for our beloved Red Sox.

 

A color man like no other

pure, unadulterated, authentic

cheering on each hit, each out,

rooting for our Red Sox.

 

-----------------

edited November 2, 2021

He walked the walk we walk

 

November 1, 2021

He walked the walk we walked

https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2021/11/he-walked-walk-we-walked.html

Thursday, October 28, 2004 9:18

Red Sox in Four

https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/10/red-sox-in-four.html

Edited September 21, 2012

“Red Sox Win – v2”

https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/red-sox-win-v2.html

Thursday, October 21, 2004 10:15

Red Sox Win

https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/10/red-sox-win.html

 

poetry, New England, Jerry Remy, Red Sox, Red Sox Nation, MLB, baseball, Boston,

 

#poetry #NewEngland @RemDawg #JerryRemy #RIPJerryRemy @RedSox #RedSox #RedSoxNation #MLB #baseball #NESN #Boston

Sausage - v3

Sausage – v3

Forget the frank, the hot dog -

Give me the Fenway sausage.

Lansdowne or Yawkey,

Just give me the street, the crowds, the carts.

Sausage you shrug, you, the reader

Of this trifle, this whimsy -

What do I mean, me the storyteller?

Read on, won’t you please.

Peppers and onions

Tease the tongue,

Bun and hot mustard

Set the stage,

The scorched and blackened piece of meat

Reminds me of every one

I have eaten before.

So much memory

Of family and fun

Of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie;

A cacophony of moments

Drip with grease.

Do you smell it too, sizzling

on the smoky hot grill?

My lips curl with a smirk

Writing these lines

As I laugh to myself

Of the pleasures of excess

And the lusty gluttony

Of eating. . . another one.

==============

edited December 28, 2015

Sausage – v3

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2015/12/sausage-v3.html

(editing version 2)

Edited September 21, 2012

“Sausage – v2”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/sausage-v2.html

posted February 14, 2004

written May 27, 2001 8:54am

Sausage

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/02/sausage.html

All of my poems and photographs are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021. All rights reserved. Contact me at <a href="mailto:raymondafoss@gmail.com">Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com)</a> for usage. See all 53k+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

America, Concord NH, Family, memories, mustard seed, New Hampshire, poetry, Poetry Where You Live, Raymond A. Foss, senses, smells, Writing Poetry, Red Sox, Yawkey Way, Landsdowne Street, Boston, Fenway Park,

#poem #poetry #sausage #America #Family #memories #mustard #NNH #senses #smells #RedSox #RedSoxNation #Boston #FenwayPark @RedSox

Sausage – v3

Forget the frank, the hot dog -

Give me the Fenway sausage.

Lansdowne or Yawkey,

Just give me the street, the crowds, the carts.

Sausage you shrug, you, the reader

Of this trifle, this whimsy -

What do I mean, me the storyteller?

Read on, won’t you please.

Peppers and onions

Tease the tongue,

Bun and hot mustard

Set the stage,

The scorched and blackened piece of meat

Reminds me of every one

I have eaten before.

So much memory

Of family and fun

Of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie;

A cacophony of moments

Drip with grease.

Do you smell it too, sizzling

on the smoky hot grill?

My lips curl with a smirk

Writing these lines

As I laugh to myself

Of the pleasures of excess

And the lusty gluttony

Of eating. . . another one.

==============

edited December 28, 2015

Sausage – v3

(editing version 2)

Edited  September 21, 2012

“Sausage – v2”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/sausage-v2.html

posted February 14, 2004

written May 27, 2001 8:54am

Sausage

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/02/sausage.html

All of my poems and photographs are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for usage. See all 40,460+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Boston Sports – v2

I raced to the Garden,

my old stomping grounds

for a basketball game,

cheering for the Celts

swarming on the court,

shooting for three so many times

I thought I would lose my mind

Quickly, running to Fenway

I watched the Red Sox score another run

the crowd went crazy,

under the cloudy sky

but the athletic catch by Jeter,

brought us to our knees

A soccer ball of black and white

fell on the stadium field

The Revolution were fast, righteous,

The midfielder made a dangerous slide,

onto the muddy field

daringly taking the ball for a goal

His kicking of the ball

like an end zone celebration

no words of the Bruins or Patriots yet;

That is for another season

another celebration, Boston sports,

a major league obsession

====

edited October 27, 2014

Boston Sports – v2

April 20, 2013

“Boston Sports”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2013/04/boston-sports.html

written with the fifth graders at

Epsom Central School

(last block of the day before April vacation)

April is National Poetry Month

http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/41

http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/47

April 19, 2013

&

Sample of poems I use in the presentation

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/nouns-verbs-and-adjectives-poetry_19.html

&

earlier poems written at the following schools:

“What’s Up With that Baby”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/whats-up-with-that-baby.html

May 19, 2010

Written with Mrs. Proulx’s Second Grade class,

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

poetry presentation and exercise

&

“The New Zoo”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/new-zoo.html

May 13, 2010

Written with Mrs. Serafin’s Second Grade class

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

poetry presentation and exercise

&

“The Hound Who Ate My Sundae”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/hound-who-ate-my-sundae.html

April 16, 2010

Written with Mrs. Forest’s Third Grade class,

National Poetry Month

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

poetry presentation and exercise

&

“A Day at the Beach”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-at-beach-national-poetry-month.html

April 29, 2009; May 4, 2009

a poem written from the words listed below,

on the board, shouted out, as Mrs. Forest’s

Third Grade class and I found poetry

in a Day at the Beach

The bolded words are the ones I used

from the list of nouns, verbs and adjectives below

The italicized words are those I added.

Written in about 10 minutes,

as a fun exercise for National Poetry Month

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

&

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post_9913.html

September 5, 2008

written at the Agape Café coffeehouse

Wesley United Methodist Church

(one of 24 written there that night)

writing poetry with third grade classes

Barrington Elementary School

Spring 2001

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 33,070+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Bits of Clay – v2

The swan boats motionless

up out of the water

the pond turning to a mud flat

the flowers, tulips shimmering

in yellows, oranges, and reds

The grasses by the shore sways

the lawn right to the waters

angles and shapes

in the wet mud before me

catching my eye, drawing me in

There in the mud shining

bits of the history

of Boston, of America,

ancient pieces of plates

and pipe, nestled in the dirt

Bits of clay, of pottery

long since discarded

trash of that time

the day to day jettisoned

finding their way to be bottom

an archeologist’s dream

====

edited August 4, 2014

Bits of Clay – v2

February 12, 2010

Bits of Clay

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/02/bits-of-clay.html

Boston Common,

being drained for cleaning

at least 20 years ago

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 31,520+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

sermon - "Where is God...?", by Pastor Ruth Foss, Suncook United Methodist Church, Suncook, NH, 4/21/2013

April 21, 2013

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Worship Theme: Does God still care?

Psalm 46:1-3 CEB

Isaiah 40:26-31 CED

Psalm 23 King James Bible

“Where is God. . . ?”

I have been watching the news this week and it has been very discouraging. To see all that has been going on. . . the death. . . the destruction. . . has really affected my thoughts. How many of you watch the unfolding of the tragedy in Boston this week? Give the congregation a chance to raise their hands. In one word, how did it make you feel? Give congregation a chance to answer. For me. . . I have been contemplating on “Where is God in all of this?” I am sure that many others have had the same question in their minds. In one sentence. . . where have you seen God this week? Give the people a chance to answer.

Many believe that God doesn’t care about humanity any more. . . that God just doesn’t answer prayers any more. . . that God just lets these bad things happen and there is no more hope. But perhaps it’s not that God doesn’t care but humanity has lost its ability to care. Maybe it’s not about God not keeping His promises to humanity but humanity has not kept its promise to God. During times like this. . . the one promise of God that helps me hang on. . . comes in the form of a Psalm. . . the 23^rd Psalm to be exact. Listen to the Psalm and see if it gives hope to the hopeless. Remember. . . God keeps all of His promises. . . we, as humanity; have a tough time keeping ours at times. God is good all the time. God can’t help it. . . it’s just God’s nature.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. ® God offers humanity relationship and wants to supply all of our needs. God is the great Pastor of the universe. God sees humanity as sheep of His pasture. He is the Good shepherd who takes great care in tending the sheep of His sheepfold. When we become believers. . . our souls are brought back to the sheep fold of our tender loving shepherd. Being that shepherd, God wants to provide His sheep with all that is good. When one of His sheep suffers. . . He too suffers and morns. Just as Jesus wept over the death of Lazarus. . . God too weeps over the death and suffering of his sheep.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. ® God gives rest and refreshment. As I said. . . God wants only to provide good things for the sheepfold. The pasture of this shepherd is the plushest. . . greenest pasture you have ever seen. God’s sheep are given the Holy Spirit by which they are led. . . the streams that flow are from the fountain of Living Water. In times of trouble. . . in times of turmoil. . . the stillest water is found within the Shepherds pasture.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. ® God provides healing, guidance and purpose. It is only in the Shepherd that the sheep can find true healing for whatever ails them. The Shepherd knows the sheep and truly knows where a healing touch is needed. As the sheep of His sheepfold are led by this restful living water of comfort. . . they are also led in the path of righteousness. The work of this righteousness is peace. . . peace for you and me. . . and peace with those around us. . . we live in peace. But. . . but. . . we cannot walk in these paths unless the Shepherd leads us. . . He is the one who knows the way. . . we need to listen to the Shepherds voice. The purpose we have. . . being the sheep is to live in peace. . . to bring about change. . . to fight for justice. . . to follow the shepherd where ever they may lead.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. ® Now this is a tough place to be walking. . . especially during times in which we live. The Shepherd offers protection, faithfulness, and comfort. Even in our darkest time. . . in our darkest hour. . . the Shepherd is there. WE will walk through our valleys in life but. . . within these valley’s. . . within our darkness that there can be growth. . . there can be hope. . . there can be a lesson learned. But. . . we will not be destroyed and we will come through to the other side. . . guided by our faithful Shepherd who would not leave us to traverse the landscape alone. And that gives us comfort in knowing we don’t forge ahead alone.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. ® The Shepherd. . . our God. . . gives us hope, we are consecrated and we have abundance through knowing the Good Shepherd. We. . . the sheep of the sheepfold. . . feast at His table. . . upon the provision of His love for us. We are anointed with the Holy Spirit. . . the living waters of faith. . . and drink of the cup of salvation offered to us at the foot of the cross. It is within the sheepfold of the Shepherd that we find our hope for tomorrow.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. ® Now that’s blessing. . . security and eternity! It is through our past experiences. . . our past valleys of the shadow of death that we trust in the goodness and mercy of the Shepherd. The Shepherd has “proved Himself” to be a reliable source of help.  The sheep of the sheepfold believe that this will follow them as long as they shall live and beyond.

We were never promised a perfect life when we entered the sheepfold. But we were promised that we have a Good Shepherd who would always be there watching over us. We live in a fallen world full of hate. . . full of rage. . . full of injustice. . . full of tragedy. Even in times of sorrow and confusion, we have hope because of the joy and hope given to us as we enter in. We, as sheep of the pasture, cannot let the “state of the world” change that. It is in these times that we need to trust the promises of Shepherd. It is in these times that we cannot run in fear but to follow the voice of the Shepherd even if it leads us through the “valley of the shadow of death.” God never promised us a rose garden without rain to help it grow, but what we are promised is that we will never walk alone. . .

Amen. . .

=----------------

April 26, 2013

Worship Theme: “Does God still care?”

Psalm 23 (KJV)

Psalm 46:1-3 (CEB)

Isaiah 40:26-31 (CEB)

Call to Worship

Unison Prayer (Worship & Song 2011)

Prayer of Dedication (GBOD April 2013)

Message for Children

Isaiah 66:13

and sermon “Where is God. . . ?”

by Pastor Ruth Foss

https://twitter.com/PastorRuthFoss

http://www.facebook.com/pastorruthfoss

http://www.pstruthsermons.blogspot.com

sermon blog

http://www.pstrruthfoss.blogspot.com

meditation blog

http://pstrfoss.wordpress.com/

“God’s Whisper” blog

Suncook United Methodist Church

Suncook, NH

April 21, 2013

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Eastertide

First Sunday after the Boston Marathon bombing

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 35,550+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Boston Sports

I raced to the Garden, 

my old stomping grounds

for a basketball game, 

cheering for the Celts

swarming on the court,

shooting for 3 so many times

I thought I would lose my mind

Quickly, running to Fenway

I watched the Red Sox score another run

the crowd went crazy, 

under the cloudy sky

The athletic catch by Jeter,

brought us to our knees

A soccer ball of black and white

fell on the stadium field

The Revolution were fast

The midfielder made a dangerous slide,

into the muddy field

daringly taking the ball for a goal

His kicking of the ball

let an end zone celebration

no words of the Bruins or Patriots yet

that is for another season

April 20, 2013

“Boston Sports”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2013/04/boston-sports.html

written with the fifth graders at

Epsom Central School

(last block of the day before April vacation)

April is National Poetry Month

http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/41

http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/47

April 19, 2013

&

Sample of poems I use in the presentation

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/nouns-verbs-and-adjectives-poetry_19.html

&

earlier poems written at the following schools:

“What’s Up With that Baby”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/whats-up-with-that-baby.html

May 19, 2010

Written with Mrs. Proulx’s Second Grade class,

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

poetry presentation and exercise

&

“The New Zoo”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/new-zoo.html

May 13, 2010

Written with Mrs. Serafin’s Second Grade class

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

poetry presentation and exercise

&

“The Hound Who Ate My Sundae”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2010/05/hound-who-ate-my-sundae.html

April 16, 2010

Written with Mrs. Forest’s Third Grade class,

National Poetry Month

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

poetry presentation and exercise

&

“A Day at the Beach”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-at-beach-national-poetry-month.html

April 29, 2009; May 4, 2009

a poem written from the words listed below,

on the board, shouted out, as Mrs. Forest’s

Third Grade class and I found poetry

in a Day at the Beach

The bolded words are the ones I used

from the list of nouns, verbs and adjectives below

The italicized words are those I added.

Written in about 10 minutes,

as a fun exercise for National Poetry Month

Pembroke Hill School

Pembroke, NH

&

“Nouns Verbs and Adjectives”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post_9913.html

September 5, 2008

written at the Agape Café coffeehouse

Wesley United Methodist Church

(one of 24 written there that night)

writing poetry with third grade classes

Barrington Elementary School

Spring 2001

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 22,970+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Sausage – v2

Forget the frank, the hot dog
Give me the Fenway sausage.
Lansdowne or Yawkey,
Just give me the street, the crowds, the carts.
Sausage you shrug, you the reader
Of this trifle, this whimsy
What do I mean, me the storyteller
Read on, won’t you please.

Peppers and onions
Tease the tongue
Bun and hot mustard
Set the stage
The scorched and blackened piece of meat
Reminds me of every one
Eaten before

So much memory
Of family and fun
Of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie
A cacophony of moments
Drip with grease
Do you smell it too
on the smoky hot grill?

My lips curl with a smirk
Writing these lines
As I laugh to myself
Of the pleasures of excess
The lusty gluttony
Of eating. . . another one.

==============

edited December 28, 2015

Sausage – v3

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2015/12/sausage-v3.html

(editing version 2)

Edited  September 21, 2012

“Sausage – v2”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/sausage-v2.html

posted February 14, 2004

written May 27, 2001 8:54am

Sausage

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/02/sausage.html

All of my poems and photographs are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for usage. See all 40,460+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Sausage

Forget the frank,
Give me the Fenway sausage.
Lansdowne or Yawkey,
Just give me the street, the crowds, the carts.
Sausage you shrug, you the reader
Of this trifle, this whimsy
What do I mean, me the storyteller
Read on.

Peppers and onions
Tease the tongue
Bun and hot mustard
Set the stage
The scorched and blackened piece of meat
Reminds me of every one
Eaten before

So much memory
Of family and fun
Of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie
A cacophony of moments
Drip with grease
Do you smell it too on the smoky hot grill?

My lips curl with a smirk
Writing these lines
As I laugh to myself
Of the pleasures of excess
The lusty gluttony
Of another one.

==============

edited December 28, 2015

Sausage – v3

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2015/12/sausage-v3.html

(editing version 2)

Edited  September 21, 2012

“Sausage – v2”

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/09/sausage-v2.html

posted February 14, 2004

written May 27, 2001 8:54am

Sausage

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/02/sausage.htmll

All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2017. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for usage. See all 45,550 of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.