Friday, April 10, 2009

Ode to a Spud

This is a story that goes round.
Small little seed, all googly sprouty- eyed and young.
Planted in soil  mid spring.
Green pokes through ground while the magic below 
Battles are fought with beetles and blight.
One pound planted becomes five pounds harvested
Then stored in buckets under my sink.
Thus lowly spud become manna of life for the short sunshine days that follow.

Alas all good things come to and end....the last spud mashed...just weeks before 
small little seed, all googly sprouty-eyed and young is sown.


Wendy said...

I love potatoes! Manna, indeed!

Daphne said...

Now if only my local stores would get some of those seed potatoes in stock, I could plant and start that cycle.

Kathy said...

Very, very well written. I am smitten with that type of prose.