The Poems of Rhubarb

A huge thank you to people who used their imagination to write amazing Odes to our leafy friend Rhubarb.

We have received over 80 poems and you can read and listen to them here on this page, as read by members of The Merry Dairy team!

And now, after counting the comments and in-depth evaluation of the judges, The Merry Dairy is pleased to announce the winners of the rhubarb poetry contest who won some Rhubcoin!!!


Sonnet: Poem #5 by Stevo
Freeform: Poem #4 by Kathleen
Haiku: Poem #9 by Ryan and Poem #32 by David (yes, we had a tie!)

These poems were submitted as part of the Be A Rhubarb Bard Poetry Contest and the Rhubarb Stalk Exchange (both now closed)! Read or listen to them all!

Poem #1: Haiku

Stalk phrases

broad leaves red and green,
sour stocks in springtime sky,
I scream for rhubarb!


Poem #2: Freeform

Rhubarb, your such an odd weed
Your taste is unique, very cool
No one thinks of you as feed
Until the first chew, its like falling backwards into a pool


Poem #3: Freeform

Taking Stalk
Shelley Posen

If your rhubarb plant could only speak
This is what it would say—
“Use this harvesting technique
So I increase from day to day:
Don’t cut with knife that’s sharp or dull
(This is known in ancient lore)
Grab stalk by stalk at the base and pull
And soon I’ll grow some more.


Poem #4: Freeform

Dearest rhubarb
You are a gift from Aunt Rosemary
when we moved to Hintonburg
almost twenty years ago.
From her garden in Cornwall,
to ours.
You’ve grown, faithfully,
as the neighbourhood’s changed,
as neighbours moved in
and moved away.
Each year you remind us strawberries
are in season. It’s time to pull you
gently up for the first harvest
Time to make our famous
Strawberry Rhubarb Stew.
Though we tend to neglect you –
busy with bike rides up to Gatineau
training for Ottawa Race Weekend
birthdays and graduations,
and all the other things
that turn days into years,
moments into memories.
You grow and stretch each spring.

Someday, when the children move away,
when they have their own small gardens,
I’ll dig up a few of your roots
and you’ll keep growing
wherever they end up.


Poem #5: Sonnet

Ode to Rhubarb

When winter wanes and springtime knocks,
Out come tender, fleshy stalks
That taste most tart, but when they’re stewed
Create a most celestial food.

In crisps and crumbles, tarts and pies,
They tempt the palate with surprise
But best of all in the extreme
Is savoury-sweet rhubarb ice cream.

Those with verdant garden patches
May consign their tangy batches,
Whence our Merry Dairy may
Transform the stalks to crème glacée.

In cone or cup or crimson garb
There’s none can match the fair rhubarb.


Poem #6: Sonnet

My vibrant rhubarb, you inspire me to write.
How I love the way you grow, thrive and stand,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about where you are in the land.

Let me compare you to a sunny Tuesday?
You are more dreamy, pleasant and fine.
Skilled breeze flaps the pleasant dancers of May,
And the springtime has the ideal punchline.

How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love your freshness, texture and taste.
Thinking of your scent fills my days.
My love for you is the red aftertaste.

Now I must away with a bursting heart,
Such as you burst through the soil metres apart.


Poem #7: Haiku

Mischief of youth
Purloined fruit snatched in haste
Alas, rhubarb


Poem #8: Freeform

I am Rhubarb

No love
A weed?
Sweet and tangy
To be adored
Please love me


Poem #9: Haiku


I don’t like sour stuff
It is a new food for me
New ice cream for me!

By Ryan (age 9)


Poem #10: Freeform

Rhubarb. I put my shoes on back to front to step into the past, sent my watch by express mail to make the time go fast Rhubarb. My husband bought a little treat, A favorite thing I love to eat Rhubarb Pie. Oh for a taste of rhubarb pie! And Get one than Thats a New Day!!


Poem #11: Haiku


Rhubarb can be sweet
Just add the sugar and BOOM!
It is VERY sweet

Jeremy (age 8)


Poem #12: Haiku


Pink, sour rhubarb
A little sugar sweetens
Leaves are poisonous

Ty (age 7)


Poem #13: Haiku

Rhubarb is so good
Like ice cream and gummy worm
I adore rhubarb!


Poem #14: Haiku

rhubarb as a child
spring sticks dip in sugar cloud
sweet crunch tart again


Poem #15: Haiku

Sweet stalks your garden
How does that rub your rhubarb?
Spring’s promise is tart


Poem #16: Freeform

Tart and tangy and a little bit ‘zangy’. Mixed in with cream, makes a frozen dream.


Poem #17: Freeform

Spring is here at long last,
Oh to break my rhubarb fast!
Stalks of succulent green and red
Used to grace my garden bed ,
Gone now to fate unknown
All the rhubarb I have grown!!


Poem #18: Freeform

I rue the day
rhubarb came my way

when people ask “what is the reason?”
I simply state: “too short a season”


Poem #19: Freeform

Rhubarb Pie

My bitter leaf; large and broad
stalk so red and sweet
Children to their mother’s arms wide
running, laughing to enjoy a treat
Cooling on the window I’m
baked in a pie the children greet
Dad is home from the hunt
his skill provides the family’s meat


Poem #20: Freeform

Early bird songs wake the day
and lilac on the air
the broad rough leaves are creeping
beyond my neighbours yards

This first plant I could allot
warms me with vibrant reds
And it’s hearty strength bares on
when all else in the plot has withered

I can’t help being heartened
that such a tart anything
could be so dearly cherished


Poem #21: Haiku

Spring’s first offering
Stocky, leafy, red and green
Tart, delicious treat!


Poem #22: Haiku

A rhubarb haiku
Has seventeen syllables:
Five, seven and five


Poem #23: Haiku

Rhubarb rhubarb rhu-
barb rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb.
Am I being clear?


Poem #24: Freeform

Early Riser

Rhubarb, the first to rise this droughtful spring,
struggles up through drowsing ground weeks
before annuals even learn their names.

Driven out of formal gardens, its red periscopes
live rough in lanes, spread to vacant lots,
occupy sketchy alleys.

Rhubarb’s a thriver, her scalloped skirts flap
wider than a road, surpass neighbour weeds.
Desperate to be noticed, she pays her way
in leafage.

The odd gardener relents, chews and spits
a stalk or two, chops and cubes, sugars sauce.
There are never any takers.

Rhubarb the Artefact, housed in Gem jars, waits
in cellars, labels pasted on in a ghost aunt’s hand,
the day, the month, the year of preservation.


Poem #25: Freeform

Rhubarb triggers up from a root
Into a stalk and a poison leaf
By the shade of cement a cavern grows
just in the spot beneath
where rhubarb rises against cement
and pushes it up unimpeded
In a wrong of land littered and sand
A germination lifts for its life undefeated


Poem #26: Haiku

Rhubarb is awesome. Rhubarb can be sour. Rhubarb is a vegetable.


Poem #27: Freeform

Rhubarb is the king
It can be used in anything
Rhubarb is pink and green
It is better then a bean
You can eat it with frozen custard
That’s way better than with mustard
You can get rhubarb ice cream at the Merry Dairy
Like ice cream with crumbled berry
Now that is the end of my poem
Now go have some for yourself everyone.


Poem #28: Haiku

See rhubarb ice cream
Sweet and tasty as I eat
Love rhubarb ice cream


Poem #29: Freeform

Pink, fleshy, edible stalks fill my heart of dreams, as the perennial dances in the spring.

When raw it’s very sour, but with some sugar on the cooker, it’s lovely sweet and sour.

Crisps and crumbles, pies or tarts it tastes supreme especially in merry dairy ice cream!

-Cedar C

9 years old


Poem #30: Sonnet

Distinguished Queen of Summer Crumbles
Tart and sweet, you are a heavenly delight
Canes dipped in dazzling sugar, maple or honey
Whatever the choice, I won’t grumble

Beneath your leafy canopy, hidden gems stretch upward
Refusing to be dwarfed by others
Harvesting doesn’t wilt your spirit or smother
You come back every year with profuse bounty for this Bard.

Who knew you’d be in such demand
Worthy enough to be precious currency in 2021
No savings plan, simply to share and nourish everyone
That’s what The Merry Dairy commands

Don’t fret, I’ll be the guard-on-watch
Ensuring Ori doesn’t mulch your glorious patch!


Poem #31: Freeform

Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb
Anticipatory ruby stalks.
Roses you are not.
Peaches you are not.

But every May, near Mother’s Day
your feisty fronds out front present.
3 more days, 2 more days,
You pump and pump and pump.
Mmm, mouth watering feature
long awaited Spring Feast.
Rhubarb cordial, rhubarb tea
and a single tall tart branch
to crunch and crunch and pucker-up

Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb
Your ruby stalks are here!
We wait a little longer
Sweet Pie dreams of your so soon coming out.


Poem #32: Haiku

Field mice scurrying
Red stalks, green umbrella leaves
Sheltering from rain


Poem #33: Haiku

Paper cups of sugar
Ragged red stalks, sweet and tart
Laughter of children


Poem #34: Freeform

Rhubarb for you
Rhubarb for me
It tastes so good
It makes me go weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!


Poem #35: Freeform

Somebody was talking about Guy Fawkes
Underneath the bridge beside the old locks
Standing in the weeds and the rhubarb stalks
They needed redemption
A sugar intervention

Everybody ready to draw their last breath
Vowing they would follow the cursed Macbeth
Underneath that bridge they would all meet Death
By rhubarb pie
The only way to die


Poem #36: Haiku

Barb was gone this morn
Rue your leafy broken stem
Summer love squandered


Poem #37: Haiku

spelling mistakes are forever
like Rubaiyat, for
Omar Khayyam’s Rhubaiyat


Poem #38: Freeform

Mary Dairy you are so mary you make my day so nice with your ice cream is the best I love your merch and I love your ice cream and I also really like rhubarb.I hope I win.😍😍😍


Poem #39: Freeform

i love rhubarb its good for us and you and you make good ice cream


Poem #40: Freeform

Rhubarb, how we do love thee. its stem is green,pink crimson red and has a delicious taste! used in ice cream yes it is, has a tart taste but is perfect for cake! mix it with berries and scream! how delicious, how delicious it is!


Poem #41: Haiku

Rhubard is healthy
Vitamin C and Fibre
A good ice cream treat


Poem #42: Haiku

Magical rhubarb
Just right tartness, marries sweet
Creates perfection


Poem #43: Freeform

rhubarb, i am
what some would call
a wink-wink tart
a taste of
spring youthful
for a tired winter heart
tread lightly dear
too much of me, and
you will ride the sirens
all doubled up
needing a jump start


Poem #44: Haiku

great fruit flavour
sweet and sour at the same time
hurray for rhubarb

elise, age 9


Poem #45: Freeform


In October we steal tires to burn for Fawkes
Easy pickings round town—most front yards
Just dig sites of dinosaur trucks
Parts and bones rusting in rain and fog.

In May we raid rhubarb from Mrs Parsons,
The Coombs, old lady McCarthy.
Jumping fences at midnight, skulking like cats
cutting stalks we shove down our shirts and pants.

The jolt as lights flick on
The bark of the dog; the salt gun, potato gun
I’ve called the cops on ye yelled at our running shadows.

Panting, clapping each other’s jean-jacket backs
We pile our theft at Fern Street woods
Grab a stalk and bite into the sour cords
none of us like but fishhook our mouths
with lures of youth, of dares, to be worth
A story.


Poem #46: Freeform

Rhubarb, we do love thee. its stem is green,pink,crimson red and tastes delicious! has a tart taste but is perfect for cake! mix it with berries and scream! how delicious, how delicious it is!


Poem #47: Freeform

Mary Dairy you make my day have delicious ice cream and I love your ice cream and so so good.I scream you scream we all scream for ice cream.😍😍😍


Poem #48: Haiku

Rhubarb Haiku

The rhubarb is tart

Stalks are green, pink, crimson red

Perfect for ice cream


Poem #49: Freeform

Rhubarb, how we love thee.its stem is green,pink,crimson red and taste delicious! it has a tart taste but is perfect for cake! mix it with berries and scream! how delicious how delicious it is!


Poem #50: Sonnet

sweet or sour bitter or weird pink green crimson red every color Makes Me glad I’m glad you chose someone who wins and I hope they get to have Mary Dairy ice cream You Make Me Mary Mary Dairy ice cream you make me scream and I make you scream and we all scream for ice cream from the Mary Dairy

Sofia 9 years old #grade 3 student


Poem #51: Haiku

OCSB grade 3 virtual class

The rhubarb is tart
Stalks are green, pink, crimson red
Perfect for ice cream!


Poem #52: Freeform

I put my shoes on back to front to step into the past, sent my watch by express mail to make the time go fast.


Poem #53: Freeform

Oh rhubarb oh rhubarb how delicious you are oh rhubarb oh rhubarb you stand out from far. you are the king you make my heart ring I just want to scream because you make great ice cream but yes you have some fruity competition but being the best is your mission I might just have a few but I enjoy every chew how many hungry people do you feed? I never think of you as a weed. oh rhubarb I love you but what do I do I want more of you in my patch but my gardening techniques just don’t match. All the red and pinky green, it’s so extreme if I grow you in my garden I know I will win!! Oh yum yum yum I know you’re the tasty one. All the yumminess of rhubarb ice cream, now you know what I mean I love rhubarb ice cream and in my mind you make the best kind.


Poem #54: Freeform

Some say the world will in fire,
Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.


Poem #55: Haiku


rosy beauty glows
tart and sweet waiting to wed
suddenly comes spring


Poem #56: Haiku

Broad green leaves fan out
sheltering their shoots below
tart pink stalks, the gift of Spring


Poem #57: Haiku

Grandmother rhubarb
Spreads ruby arms to hug clouds
While the worms cuddle dirt.


Poem #58: Haiku

in my favourite cold treat
rhubarb is so sweet


Poem #59: Haiku

Long red and green stalks;
The leaf is not what you eat.
First veggie of spring.


Poem #60: Freeform

Although your ice cream contains plants,
You may need to get bigger pants,
Because adding rhubarb
Doesn’t take out the carbs;
Instead you must get up and dance.


Poem #61: Freeform

By Heather Blackmore

I’ll start some by seed
It will be a long time, could be years, ‘til harvest sure
Grandma had some, so did Mom
Check your front porch, I had to divide mine
I put it in yesterday, in the luxury of the middle of the day
Glad to share
The rhubarb is over by the fence
Grass never grows there anyway
They don’t want to be crowded
How long will it take, do you think?
Some grow it by candlelight to make it sweeter
We saw a bird that we’ve never seen before
Black, with tiger-tail wings
Watch Murphy around the leaves. Cats too
Orange peel in the garden, dogs don’t like citrus
Pull, don’t cut, leave a third
Sour pink celery
Joy says, Let it stand with sugar and wait.


Poem #62: Sonnet

Ode to a rhubarb

Oh sleekly sour stalks
of green-red-white,
Whose poisonous leaf
Hides bittersweet delight,
I wait with anxious yearning every year
For spring’s unfurled unfurling crisp reveal
I rue the day I felt your barb — and how —
But would not ever live without you now


Poem #63: Freeform

He watered her rows as Rhubarista of Pleasure
He trafficked amounts of her body by moonlight as treasure
In defiance of rebar and the razors of law
He moved bundles unnoticed by mechanical claw
On the spine of horizons he followed the stars
The rhubarb was seasoned by shimmers of Saturn and Mars.


Poem #64: Haiku

Pink, unctuous, gleaming,
Sweet and tart, garden sweetheart,
Spring dream of ice cream.


Poem #65: Haiku

Caroline’s garden
Filled with rhubarb everywhere
Sour, sassy, red and green


Poem #66: Haiku

My brother’s new fence:
Rhubarb patch takes root, split from
My overgrown garden


Poem #67: Freeform

A lady of celery so sour and sweet
Her expanding sprouts spreading cracks in concrete
He named her Barbosa the goddess of pie
And her stalks in his garden soaked sun from the sky
In admiration of her he offered this speech
“No place is better than the place where I’m sipping
The sweet of Barbosa where my waist line is dipping.
Molten with strawberries in the crust of a pie
to the lobes of my brain and I crumble to cry.”
His melo-drama for pie was an opera at least
when the open containments were troubled by yeast.
He reached for a sentence through an insulin coma,
“If I’m blinded to blackness I’ll seek the aroma.”


Poem #68: Sonnet “Ode to rhubarb”

Oh sleekly sour stalks
of green-red-white,
Whose poisonous leaf
Hides bittersweet delight,
I wait with anxious yearning every year
For spring’s unfurled unfurling crisp reveal
I rue the day I felt your barb — and how —
But would not ever live without you now


Poem #69: Haiku

rhubarb bitter sweet, delicious with strawberries, tastes great in crumble.


Poem #70: Haiku

Rhubarb ice cream yum
Merry Dairy has it now
Eat it all summer

By Evan Liew (8 1/2 yrs)


Poem #71: Freeform

Rhubarb, rhubard,
How I hate thee!
Rhubard, rhubard,
I much prefer ice cream you see..
Rhubard, rhubard,
Stalk, by stalk, you are to be uprooted…
Pull rhubard, tug rhubard,
Like the Klondike, you are ripe to be looted.
Oh rhubard, little rhubard,
Shush, be quiet, you’ll be fine, do trust me!

You’re on your way to Merry Dairy;
And that means more salted caramel for me!


Poem #72: Freeform
Barb I love you
but for the sake of your life
don’t tell my wife
as there won’t be anything we can do
This is not a Rhu
because she’ll take a knife
and to my strife
cut you into a stew
Though I love pie
And tarts too
I don’t want you to die
I will try
And so should you
to keep our secret nigh

Poem #73: Freeform

The Quest

Bernie and Marlee went off on a frolic
In search of some ruby red stalks
They flittered and wandered
And helplessly floundered
Until they espied a hawk

They implored the hawk graciously
To please let them know
Where in this fine city
The ruby red grows

With his keen observation
He could see their vexation
At being mere mortals with limited vision
In this unusual pursuit of vegetation

His kindness prevailed
As he heard of their tale
of the need for rhubarb for the team
in the wink of an eye, he spotted a supply
so they could make their glorious ice cream


Poem #74: Freeform

Ode to Rhubarb (a limerick)

There once was a ‘Barb on my farm
Her stalks felt so nice in my arms
She turned a bright red
Was picked from her bed
And ended up in my mouth, sweet and warm.



Poem #75: Sonnet

The grass is still wet with dew
as I open the latch
to the garden patch
anticipating my breakfast stew

Your tartness is appreciated by few
but when I pick my morning batch
for me there is no match
reviving my fondness anew

If eaten raw
I blink my eyes
as my face frowns

But there is no flaw
to some’s surprise
when sugar helps it go down


Poem #76: Haiku

Oh, ruby stalks!
Under-appreciated; tart.
Rhubarb: heart of spring.


Poem #77: Sonnet

The Merry Dairy Rhubarb Fairy

Sonnet By Genova

I rued that barb, its capacious, mean leaves,
Its fleshy, tart trunks for pie or preserve.
My fears stemmed from stalks, albeit absurd;
At rhubarb’s raw forms, my taste buds would seize.
Though a base for wines or aperatifs,
Thoughts of the “pie plant” panicked my nerves.
For Rheum rhabarbarum I had no words;
Its beastly bite, my gustatory grief.
Then one day I, gladly rhubarb bereft,
Heard of rhubarb with ginger! Oh, that spice!
The Merry Dairy on air walked—so deft—
Cream couture clothed, sweet silk blended on ice!
Dairy dreams—and jams—that carry real heft!
Rhubarb Ginger Float Pie is the one I will slice!


Poem #78: Freeform

There was a man named Eddy
What wanted Rhubarb aplenty
So he put on his boots
And planted some roots
And said: Hurry up! Grow already!

There was a girl named Marlene
Who had a wonderful dream
Let’s open a shoppe
And trade in red stalks
And make some rhubarb ice cream


Poem #79: Freeform

The colour of a ruby
The same colour as the feet of a red-footed boobie
With leaves of emerald green that do not like a scream!
Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb.


Poem #80: Haiku

Rhubarb is deep red
Ruby red good with sugar
Calm and attractive


Poem #81: Haiku

Shocking pink, stretching
Sullenly towards the sun
Unyielding giants


Poem #82: Haiku

What is this rhubarb
It has to do with Springtime
Maybe I’ll try it


Poem #83: Freeform

Oh Rhubarb,
I have a question.
Please don’t take it the wrong way.
Why don’t people like you?
I know some do but why not everyone?
You really have a lot going for you.
And you’re versatile too.
Maybe you’re just misunderstood.
You’re sour.
Like really sour.
And your poisonous greens,
That’s a tough one.
But did you hear?
Gardening is cool now.
Canning too.
That is good for you.
But Rhuby,
You need new recipes.
I’m sorry but stewed rhubarb isn’t ‘Gram worthy.
You gotta be a bit flashy.
And throw in a couple of zingers like “plant-based” and “gluten-free.”
And you gotta make friends with the foodies.
They’ve got smartphones and recipe blogs.
And they’re so done with quinoa and kale.
If that doesn’t work,
Have you thought of a re-brand?
A new name maybe?
How about Pink Celery?
Kinda catchy, I think.
Maybe a bit much?
We’re just brainstorming here.
Oh Rhuby,
I have full confidence in you.
You’ll figure it out.


Poem #84: Haiku

Rhubarb Haiku

Red as a ruby
Slightly tart and slightly sweet
You will love rhubarb!

-Myles Jeffers
(9 years old)


Poem #85: Freeform

There once was a vegetable so sour,
that it made my brother-in-law dour.
If sweet rhubarb could be,
content would be he,
and all would live happily every after.


Poem #86: Haiku

Rhubarb, a haiku

Springtime unfurls leaves
Growing stringy stalks so tart
Smiling lips pucker

(Read in English & Estonian)


Poem #87: Haiku

Hot evening walk cold chocolate
strawberry rhubarb
merry dairy time again



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Carrie Skinner

I love number 24 Free form category
Early Riser.
Also number 46 Raiders. Are you from Newfoundland?


Sorry no
But I’ve visited several times to Grosse Morne and also to the East coast. You weave a lot of hints in your poem. It paints a vivid picture.

John Blackmore

The Newfoundland west coast and the national park are amazing places. Growing up, NOBODY went to the park. My friends and I would have whole trails to ourselves. You would be on the top of the mountain in June and be completely alone.

I remember the threat of the “salt gun” growing up and the rumours of what houses were packing them.


So many fine poems, what a talented bunch. If I have to choose one, it will be #77. “At rhubarbs raw forms my taste buds would seize” – so eloquent!


Steve, thank you so much for your kind words! There is audio to come. 🙂 Do you have a poem here? Thanks again!!!



Dear Genova the poet
If I do have a rhubarb yarn
Even if you twist my arm
I won’t let anyone know it!


Dear Steve the bard
You likely have some woolly veg
For which I’d jump a spiky hedge
If I had a yard!


As you weave your yarns in rhythm and time
I entangle mine in knots
No doubt it is in Merry Dairy customer’s thoughts
That I should cease my knits of rhyme


But a bard as above board and knotty as you
Only makes others crave more rhubarb stew
‘cept it’s summer now, so we all want ice cream
Rest assured, Steve, none will boring you deem

P.S. or judge if you leave it there 😀
P.P.S. No, we do not know each other.


I feel I am boxing way above class
In the words of the famous Muhammed Ali
You “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee”
In the ring of poetry I only trespass


I did not even notice my AABB;
We’ve been bantering only in ABBA…
My rhyming went off, when yours did not sway;
Your metaphor rings past Ali, all can see!


“Mamma Mia” and now we sing of ABBA
Without “Knowing Me Knowing You”
This will certainly be my “Waterloo”
You “Dancing Queen” of rhyme Genova


Ice creams, A-B-B-A rhyming schemes, dance/sing queens…
Where there’re ice cream castles, no despair
Limerick licks in rhubarb hair
Swedish dreams of Ottawa scenes


Yes Ottawa is blessed with frozen dreams
The Rideau Canal, Barbara Anne Scott
Brady Tkachuk and Thomas Chabot
Nicely topped with Merry Dairy ice creams


Can’t say I watch much sport on ice
But a capital city, yours, a bit far
What a thrill to skate there at least thrice
By fairy? Ferry? Rhubarb-hued car?


You must be from Toronto where ice sports don’t mix
Years of torment have built up fright
as you face another elimination tonight
At least take solace as you made it past game six!


Creamery delight, indeed! May our cauldrons be afire with this usable greed! Love, love of the edible…. found so late…. we are behind in our taste.

Love it! It’s interesting that the Sonnet form has evolved to such limerick.



Creamery Delight! oh, such fun to be had at its expense! Our tastebuds being watery based, We are traned to run after the taste!

Love this! Sonnet Limerick stuff. Cheers!

Carrie Skinner

I pick #45 Raiders.
It has a developed story and interest all along the way. The end doesn’t disappoint. It paints a memory of childhood. Nostalgic.
Hope it wins.


#74 – I love a good limerick especially with some dirtay double-entendre


It was a tough call, but I would vote for Haiku #32, as it:

• conjures a perhaps ordinary yet unusual frenetic microcosm (scurrying, and tiny) picture, where I’m aware of the point of view of the little mice (or of that of someone watching, sheltered inside)
• immediately makes me think of the sharp contrast of the complementary colours red and green and of the size of the mice versus the gigantic leaves (umbrella so much bigger, and also a lovely idea of their serving as an umbrella), the dryness of where people live, and wet of nature, the hurrying and stillness occurring in mere moments
• involves all my senses: I see the scene, hear the pelting rain on the leaves where the little mice are perhaps wet and shivering, hear the scurrying feet, and anticipate the smell and taste and touch of a The Merry Dairy rhubarb cone! Except I’ll have to go to Ottawa (at least as worth it as “The Drive to Acton”)
• adheres to the form its author selected (5-7-5 syllables each line, totalling 17 syllables), with a seasonal (not mandatory) reference
• has (optional) audio, delivered artfully

Thank you all for your wonderful reads! Steve, keep writing poetry, it’s great!

Victoria Sutherland

I liked 68 ‘Ode to Rhubarb’. 54 was blatant plagarism of Andrew Marvel, ‘to his coy mistress’


It’s wonderful hearing them read. Completely different experience from reading them myself. I love all the different voices.

Ozzie von Raven

I love # 5. The writing is beautifully creative and makes me feel like skipping and laughing – just like your ice cream.

I like #35 too for its historical imagery and use of Ottawa landmarks


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