This is my favorite of the two pork-related poems I have crafted, and I daresay it is likely the only ode ever to use the word “scarf” as a verb. Since my husband is such an avid fan of bacon, how could I not write this?
An Ode to Bacon
While under quilt I did repose,
sleep fighting ‘gainst the light,
a perfect odor met my nose.
Waked at once, feet took flight,
sure and swift-footed, ’til I spied
a dark, smoked confection.
Sweet, to crackling crispness fried.
Bacon! food perfection!
A charger piled with bacon, I
did scarf, then looked for more.
The cook gave me the evil eye,
booted me out the door.
So, now, a guest I’ll be no more
in homes where bacon’s served.
My reputation goes before
and, it is well deserved.