Poems about sandwiches are pretty rare, I think, so if you've never read a poem about a sandwich, you're in for a special treat. Literally, that is. Have a seat, grab a napkin, and let's have some fun.
They're both by Shel Silverstein. Check them out and let us know what you think. You maybe tempted to run to the kitchen - or the nearest fast-food restaurant to make (or buy) yourself a delicious sandwich. So read these poems at your own risk.
The first one reads more like a short story, I think, so here you go!
by Shel Silverstein (1932-1999)
I’ll sing you a story of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing --
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.
His scepter and his royal gowns,
His regal throne and golden crowns
Were brown and sticky from the mounds
And drippings from each peanut-butter sandwich.
His subjects all were silly fools
For he had passed a royal rule
That all that they could learn in school
Was how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.
He would not eat his sovereign steak,
He scorned his soup and kingly cake,
And told his courtly cook to bake
An extra-sticky peanut-butter sandwich.
And then one day he took a bite
And started chewing with delight,
But found his mouth was stuck quite tight
From that last bite of peanut-butter sandwich.
His brother pulled, his sister pried,
The wizard pushed, his mother cried,
“My boy’s committed suicide
From eating his last peanut-butter sandwich!”
The dentist came, and the royal doc.
The royal plumber banged and knocked,
But still those jaws stayed tightly locked.
Oh darn that sticky peanut-butter sandwich!
The carpenter, he tried with pliers,
The telephone man tried with wires,
The firemen, they tried with fire,
But couldn’t melt that peanut-butter sandwich.
With ropes and pulleys, drills and coil,
With steam and lubricating oil --
For twenty years of tears and toil --
They fought that awful peanut-butter sandwich.
Then all his royal subjects came.
They hooked his jaws with grapplin’ chains
And pulled both ways with might and main
Against that stubborn peanut-butter sandwich.
Each man and woman, girl and boy
Put down their ploughs and pots and toys
And pulled until kerack! Oh, joy --
They broke right through that peanut-butter sandwich.
A puff of dust, a screech, a squeak --
The king’s jaw opened with a creak.
And then in voice so faint and weak --
The first words that they heard him speak
Were, “How about a peanut-butter sandwich?”
A hippo sandwich is easy to make.
All you do is simply take
One slice of bread,
One slice of cake,
One onion ring,
One piece of string,
A dash of pepper --
That ought to do it.
And now comes the problem...
Biting into it!
By Shel Silverstein
The following poem is in a book called Twinkle Twinkle Chocolate Bar - I know, right! I love that title, too. (Link opens in a new window).
I made myself a sandwich,
just the other day.
I never should have done it,
for now I’m stuck this way.
— Kenn Nesbitt
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