Free-willed vampire

In some movies with monsters and such,

People want to be like them too much.

Vampires or werewolves, doesn’t really matter,

They’ll serve themselves on a non-silver platter,

Become vampires free willingly or so.

I couldn’t say anything but “NO NO NO!”

Vampires can’t really go into the sun,

And I do think that tanning is fun.

Also, when I’m doing any kind of cooking,

You shouldn’t smell, but just stick to looking,

I use garlic more than pirates use rum,

Enough to lay a whole town on its bum.

Thus I can’t be a vampire of my own will,

No garlicky stews, the rest are just swill.

I wouldn’t mind taking the life of a stranger,

Not a second thought in the alley or the manger.

But frying veggies without the angel of taste,

Is like a turkey with water for a baste.

So, Mr. Dracula, please stay away,

Go bother others, if you please may.

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Baking pizza

Baking pizza in the oven. Can’t it be done?

Not quite as much as the eating, the baking was still fun.

Kneading dough with my bare fists,

Checking herby ingredient lists,

If I check what it looks like it’s yellow as the sun.

That’s the cheesy crust it has, moustache licking good!

Tomato sauce and salty things, like a pizza should!

Onions and garlic. Onions and garlic!

Onions in onions, garlic on garlic!

If I had a fireproof mouth, chomp down on it I would.

It’s done! It’s done! It’s been a half hour!

Its red and yellow is prettier than any flower.

Bye bye now, my dear friend.

I’ll salivate all the way till the end.

I’ll be so greased I will need a soapy shower!

Garlic butterfly

Today I was peeling a garlic clove,

For some stew then boiling on the stove.

One big peel fell circling down,

A flutterby whiter than blue or brown.

It will land, dead and still,

Was what I thought and always will.

But it flew up till it came to my chest,

Around my back and back to my breast.

Its tenacity draining it reached my lips,

Gave me a kiss, and plunged with flips.

I was kissed by a garlic moth,

Taste of garlic and the bubble of the broth:

All I felt or could think of,

As I stood there, filled with love.