Grandma's Pickles
My grandma once knew Peter Piper—
A very famous pickler.
He taught her all the pickling rules
Of which he was a stickler.
Peter Piper’s foremost rule
Is about the pickle jar:
“If it isn’t made of gold,” he said,
“The pickles are sub-par.”
The second rule of Peter Piper
Is to practice, practice, practice.
Practice pickling everything:
Your socks, a toad, a cactus.
The vinegar must be as strong
As volcanic acid.
“Otherwise,” Piper would say,
“The taste will be too placid.”
My grandma, she practiced for years
As Piper’s sole apprentice.
Now, she has a great renown:
Her pickles are stupendous.
She pickles caviar for chefs,
She pickles old dog kibble:
And when she pickles Brussel sprouts,
Even kids will nibble.
Peter Piper’s memory
Is alive and well,
For grandma’s pickles are indeed
Extraordinarily swell.
A very famous pickler.
He taught her all the pickling rules
Of which he was a stickler.
Peter Piper’s foremost rule
Is about the pickle jar:
“If it isn’t made of gold,” he said,
“The pickles are sub-par.”
The second rule of Peter Piper
Is to practice, practice, practice.
Practice pickling everything:
Your socks, a toad, a cactus.
The vinegar must be as strong
As volcanic acid.
“Otherwise,” Piper would say,
“The taste will be too placid.”
My grandma, she practiced for years
As Piper’s sole apprentice.
Now, she has a great renown:
Her pickles are stupendous.
She pickles caviar for chefs,
She pickles old dog kibble:
And when she pickles Brussel sprouts,
Even kids will nibble.
Peter Piper’s memory
Is alive and well,
For grandma’s pickles are indeed
Extraordinarily swell.
This poem is copyright (©) Heather Weinreb 2024
About the Writer
Heather Weinreb
Heather is a violin teacher and aspiring children's writer from Montreal, Canada. She has recently completed her MFA at the University of Saint Thomas, Houston, and has been previously published by Dappled Things.