Vegetables Poems - Poems about Vegetables

Recently my nutritionist – a health freak if ever there was one – suggested I eat raw vegetables like cabbage, kale, asparagus, brussel sprouts, cauliflower and broccoli, all of the cruciferous family, all packed with vital antioxidants, vitamins, minerals, phytochemicals and fibre, (relieving weekly straining bouts of constipation.) As for results he assured me with an assured smile I’d be stronger...

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I open a bag of mixed-up vegetables their chatter is deafening I ask them, “What’s the ruckus? “It’s the day of reckoning!” I open a box of Hamburger Helper hoping to quench veggies’ yelping As H.H. interacts with mixed up vegetables he laments, “I can do no helping!” It’s hard to decide what to make for dinner when surrounded by conflict and strife After thinking it through...

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Some time ago my nutritionist, a true health freak and activist, recommended I eat green veggies – (for antioxidants against diseases): kale, cabbage, chard, broccoli, arugala all cruciferous greens and other genera. The benefits were just as predicted but the side-effects were not expected – I now have the longest ears in town, walk less, but do more hopping around, and, to my...

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Seeing the beauty Frying noodles, vegetables My drooling flow out....

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I thank the sun ... The soil, the summer rain, I thank the apple tree The fields of golden grain I thank the corn crops And the pumpkin patch, I thank the warm barn Where new poults hatch I thank Tom turkey ... From down on the farm, And the good old farmer Who caused him no harm I thank the potato fields And the pecan...

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An orange takes an early lead, followed by a melon. Garden peas are catching fast, so too is the lemon. Granny Smith’s are overtaking. Lettuces are gaining. Kiwi’s move from out the pack. This is entertaining. The orange takes the lead again, now grapes are rolling clear. Broccoli, asparagus are getting very near. We’re nearly at the finish, and this is getting close. Trees and soil are cheering around...

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Constipated onions Immaculate cantaloupe Collard, mustard, turnip greens crabgrass eating artichoke distant Are the carrots potatoes fried display? But the watermelon Praise on the tomato mustard says We be going to have ketchup today 6/17/ 24 written words by James Edward Lee Sr....

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pricot and plums; are they served in fruit salad; citrus to me so ~ melon-choly bowl; filled with collar turnip green; fruit cocktail salad; ~ urban session dreads; drenched in hot sauce Red Devil; ranch dressing salad? ...

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I lined up the vegetable crazies onto a dinner plate. They stuck out their tongues, their tummies were great. With scrunched up faces, I wondered if they knew their fate. Eight gnarled up turnips lying on a flat dinner plate....

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Parchment reach reap, continual column Turns over huge too ripe drooping vegetables Dirt encrusted, grit bitter varietal problem Sown hammock slack jowls of expired eligible ...

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We used to label our Iowa garden at the end of the rows with seed packets. We would plant the row first, sprinkiing the teensy seeds and covering them. Then we would nail the seed packet to the stake at the end of the row. Like little soldiers we saw peas packets, carrot packets, radish packets. Lettuice packets, potato...

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Happy singing tomato took the garden by storm today. With her high kicks and laughter and songs merry and gay. We were all laughing and singing and showing such glee. Farmer Mustard said “Listen to my vegetables! Oh, Mercy me!”...

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Her canvas awaits the first scoop, She dips her brush in the soup Bouillabaisse caresses her canvas, Stirring the senses of her palate She dips her brush in yet As the stove heats up her palette, Painting the dawn sky With tints of butternut squash Split pea flavor colors the trees Minestrone sways the flower...

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In remembrance of Malvina Reynolds Little Pumpkins in a pumpkin patch Little Pumpkins growing side-by-side Little Pumpkins taste of sticky taffy Little Pumpkins in a row. There's a black one, a sea-green one Polkadot and honey-yellow one But not one's an orange one And I wanted one that was orange. All the people in the pumpkins Pay rent to Peter-Peter and He's their landlord they're his...

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My art on the tomb walls Ventriloquism for the bored and the dying Coffins nailed to this pale stricken plot The blink blink wink of a bleeding heart For all the world to see....

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