No Regrets
Set out did I intent to try
to make the perfect bagel,
I leafed through trees of recipes
examined every angle,
For months and years between my ears
I lived a baker’s toil,
Yet all these plans stayed from my hands
And not one bagel boiled;
Until said me, why must there be a single chosen way? Can’t I just bake when I awake one bagel every day? With soul now loosed I mass produced my favorite onion food, They may all not be perfect but at least they’re pretty good.
Until said me, why must there be a single chosen way? Can’t I just bake when I awake one bagel every day? With soul now loosed I mass produced my favorite onion food, They may all not be perfect but at least they’re pretty good.
15
12 2009
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And a fine ending that is. Congrats, skiffle.
Ah, our Son, the Onion Bagel Poet. They have been more than “pretty good.” Thank you, Andy, for a beautiful journey. Beautiful and Tasty.
Give it up! Try for onion or garlic bialys; they are much better tasting.
Love to read poemsaboutonionbagels.com
Your poetry about onion bagels has moved me. Being ‘not that tolerant to wheat’ they are not something I have tried, but your poetry has made me feel somehow connected to onion bagels in a way I didn’t think possible. Thank you.
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