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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I chase you through the bottle just trying to get a little taste, I pour your juice on my taters none of it I shall waste. I love your pickley goodness so crunchy and so sweet, with my fork I gently pick you up my mouth it does greet. A drop of juice silently falls and lands upon my plate, I swipe it up rather quickly and I don't bother to wait. Your vinegar touches my tastebuds it's such a yummy treat, I invite your friends out of the bottle with a smile for me they greet. They dance around on my plate saying hello to the rest of their friends, their greetings with the meat and veggies soon has to come to an end. I try to pick up another beet this one is putting up a fight, I do my best to stab it with my fork don't care if it takes me all night. I chase it around in circles in the corner of my plate it stands, it acts like the lone ranger tries its best to be tough like a man. I finally get hold of it it squirts me with its juice, I dropped it on my pants now I've got a beet on the loose. I got juice all over my shirt all over the place mat too, my shirt is now stained reddish-purple now what am I going to do? I tried my best to scrub the stain out while the beet stands there and laughs, I threw the bar of soap at him I was starting to feel rather daft. I knocked the beet to the floor he tried his best to move around, I stomped on his neck hard wanted to keep him on the ground. The beet tried to fight his way out from beneath my heavy foot, I laughed hard in his face back in the bottle, he will not be put. I slipped on his juice and fell hard to the floor, I go through this every time my life never seems to be a bore. I can't stand getting beet stains all over my new and clean clothes, I get extremely upset about it but that's sometimes how life goes. Copyright © Cynthia Jones Dec.14/2014
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