Old for New
It’s not every day a spud jumps out
and asks you to take it home for tea,
but this old King Edward potato did
and it wanted to be chips for me.
He said that he had been discarded
because of his sell by date.
I told him that this was no reason
to become chips upon a plate.
I asked him if he’d considered genetics,
and he said that it was too late.
His extended shelf life was now over
and he’d go out in style with a steak.
“With tubers sticking out your head, ” I said,
“you could produce potatoes by the score.
All it takes is a few months in the soil
and nature will do the rest for sure.”
“Are you saying that I will live again? ”
“Yes, but not exactly as you are,
you will first become a fresh green shoot
and then a lovely white flower.
You will then attract the butterflies and bees
who will kiss new life into you,
and when your flowers pass on your genetic code,
you’ll grow into potatoes new.
If one of your descendents did this every year
instead of being a plate of chips.
Your genealogical line could live on forever
because you chose genetics.”
“Do you know I really like the sound of this,
you’ve filled me full of good cheer,
so if I could trouble you to put me in the ground,
my descendents will see you next year.”
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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