An Ode to Doc Pemberton
An Ode to John Stith “Doc” Pemberton
Eighteen Thirty One
A wonderful year;
On a hot Georgian night
The Doc did premier.
An unshaven lad
Without a cool stash;
A Colonel he’d be
Until a bad gash.
A druggist he would become
Coca wine he would then mix;
Pemberton’s French Wine Coca
The Georgians’ became transfixed.
Then along came Frank Robinson
Not the famous…
Bazooka Candy, I find You Dandy
A Valentine’s Day Poem for Bazooka Candy.
Nineteen forty seven
‘Twas a very good year,
A new candy was born
The world let out a cheer.
Without an introduction
Or limited production,
The world came to know
Our Bazooka Joe.
In Nineteen Fifty Three
The world did laugh with glee,
With great comic strips
Of short pithy quips.
Over sixty five years
My Tide Washes, my Tide Cleans
A tribute to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tide and Downy.
My Tide washes, my Tide cleans
My stains are squashed, my soft blue jeans;
My laundry room baskets galore
The folder folding one stack more,
And my Tide washes, my Tide cleans.
Darkness settles within my house
Downy did I add, does call my spouse;
The little beads, with amazing scent
Thought to myself, from…
A Mother’s Pride: An Ode to Tide.
When I was young and just a lad,
A loving mother, indeed I had.
So many lessons, my mother has taught,
Like which products we used, which ones we bought.
“To help you clean, your filthy duds,
Turn to Tide, they’re the Ocean of Suds.”
I said to my mother, very satirical,
“Is that because Tide, is the Washing Miracle?”
An Apocalyptic Poem For My Friends at Procter and Gamble
Twas the night before the Apocalypse, I roamed through the house.
I was nervously worrying, I kept up my spouse.
As the laundry was washed, with my precious Tide,
Indeed I stocked up, if the Mayan calendar abides.
The kids were in bed, showered with their Ivory Soap,
I counted down the hours, “No Apocalyse,” I said, as I hoped.
While my mate…