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.


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.