Oh, rosy, ruby, rotund root,
for you I do not give a hoot.
I do not like you if you are
roasted, boiled, in a jar,
or served in sauce some think divine –
you’ll not pollute this plate of mine.
Howe’er, your greens are quite delish.
I’ll let them grace my dinner dish.
Stir-fried with onion, not too much,
A little garlic, just a touch.
Served with butter, salt and pepper,
there’s no dish that I like better.
Stay off my plate, you bleedin’ beet.
I want your greens beside my meat.
But if you’re served as borscht or cake
I’ll have you then upon my plate.
#Poem #Humour #Food #MargaretGHanna