Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Vegetables by Eleanor Farjeon

The country vegetables scorn
To lie about in shops,
They stand upright as they were born
In neatly-patterned crops.

And when you want your dinner you
Don't buy it from a shelf,
You find a lettuce fresh with dew
And pull it for yourself;

You pick an apronful of peas
And shell then on the spot.
You cut a cabbage, if you please,
To pop into the pot.


The folk who their potatoes buy
From sacks before they sup,
Miss half of the potato's joy,
And that's to dig it up.

3 comments:

Lois Evensen said...

Looks yummy! Great rhyme. ;)

Christine said...

Lovely poem...and pictures to go with it! :)

Joyfulmama said...

Hi there! Oh, what a delightful poem and pictures on a cold winter's evening! I have been following your blog for a while now and always leave green with envy. I wasn't born with green thumbs and we live in a tiny little townhouse with barely a patch of grass, and I have to order my organic veggies from our health shop, which is costing me an arm and a leg. Oh, my goodness, I just read what I wrote - what a pity party! Anyhow, thanks for the excelent and inspiring posts. I keep all of them for when one day we move into a bigger place.