Perfect Pierogi

Must admit, I have come to love this Polish everyday delicacy!

In realms of culinary delight,
There dwells a treat, pure Polish might,
An ode I weave with words so fine,
To honor Pierogi, divine.

Oh, Pierogi, dumpling sublime,
With dough so tender, filled in time,
Potatoes and cheese, a timeless blend,
A taste of comfort, on which we depend.

Boiled or fried, the choice is mine,
Served on a platter, oh so fine,
Pockets of joy, burst with flavour,
Morsels of bliss, that none can savour.

In family kitchens, traditions unfold,
Generations gather, stories untold,
Hand-rolled with love, a labour of care,
A symbol of heritage we gladly share.

From pierogi ruskie, the classic embrace,
To mushroom, sauerkraut, and endless grace,
Sweet fillings too, with fruits so sweet,
Pierogi delights, a culinary feat.

So raise a fork, let praises ring,
To pierogi, our hearts do sing,
For in each bite, a taste of home,
A dish that unites, wherever we roam.

Oh, humble pierogi, we adore,
Your presence on our plates, we implore,
A symbol of comfort, tradition, and more,
Forever in our hearts, forever we adore.

On the Bus

Another day, another journey.

In a world of wheels that spin afar,
Through landscapes vast, like a shining star,
An adventure awaits, a journey to keep,
On Flixbus I embark, a ticket so cheap.

With passport in hand, I cross the border’s gate,
Leaving behind the lovely Czech state,
To Poland I journey, a land little known,
On this international bus, I am not alone.

The engine purrs, as we glide through the miles,
A tapestry of scenes, nature’s delightful smiles,
Mountains and meadows, rivers that flow,
Outside my window, a captivating show.

The bus hums along, with a rhythm serene,
While I sit back and relax, in a tranquil dream,
With WiFi on board, I’m connected, it’s true,
Sharing my travels, with loved ones anew.

New friends I may meet, from lands far away,
Sharing stories and laughter, along the way,
As the sun sets on this cross-country ride,
Memories of international bus travel abide.

So, here I am, on this Flixbus grand,
Exploring new horizons, hand in hand,
International bus travel, a joy untold,
Unveiling the world, as my story unfolds.

Beer, Bratties and Bread = Belly!

The threat is real! The problem is, how can you resist?!

In lands of beauty and hearty cheer,
I set my sights on Poland, so dear.
But alas, my indulgence took its toll,
For beer and bread burdened my belly’s role.

Oh, Poland, land of pierogi and stout,
I reveled in feasts, without a doubt.
Yet with each gulp and bite I consumed,
My waistline expanded, my vigor entombed.

Germany, a land of rich cuisine,
Sausages and pretzels, a tempting scene.
But as I roamed through cities vast,
My bloated belly slowed me down at last.

Czechia’s beer, renowned and revered,
Quenched my thirst, but left me smeared.
For as I wandered through lovely old streets,
My heavy gut reminded me of my feats.

So heed this caution, fellow wanderers brave,
Though temptation beckons, be wise and save.
Moderation is key, a lesson well-learned,
For excess indulgence leaves your belly churned.

A Riverside Stroll

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The Dwarves of Wroclaw

After a few days in this magical city, I feel inspired!

In the heart of Wroclaw, where dreams arise,
Dwell the wonderful dwarves, a charming surprise.
Tiny and stout, with mischievous glee,
They bring enchantment to this city by the Odra’s decree.

Amidst cobbled streets and buildings old,
The dwarves adorn each corner, a tale to be told.
Their presence unseen by hurried eyes,
But those who seek, find a magical prize.

With tiny hammers and tools in hand,
They craft their world, a whimsical land.
From hidden nooks to lofty heights,
Their creations shine in day and night.

The dwarf of knowledge with a book in his palm,
Teaches us wisdom, he is the calm.
His spectacles gleam with wisdom’s light,
Guiding seekers through intellectual plight.

The dwarf of love spreads kindness and cheer,
His heart-shaped face erases every tear.
He scatters love in each embrace,
Filling Wroclaw’s air with warmth and grace.

The dwarf of art, a creative soul,
Paints vivid colors that make hearts whole.
His palette dances with hues so bold,
Transforming mundane into stories untold.

The dwarf of laughter with a jolly grin,
Brings joy to all, from deep within.
His infectious chuckle, a magical sound,
Bringing smiles to faces all around.

Together they unite, a dwarven crew,
Working silently, yet their presence shines through.
They remind us to slow down our pace,
To notice the beauty in every space.

Oh, wonderful dwarves of Wroclaw’s embrace,
Your charm and magic leave no trace.
In this vibrant city, you weave your spell,
Creating a world where wonders dwell.