An ode to the squash; my fine striped friend,
What shall you be; when cooked to the end,
A morsel perhaps; and more I am sure,
Your beginnings were modest; most certainly pure,
Begun as a seed; and raised to be squat,
I could now allow you; to be less than you ought,
A tiger striped squash; no more than a pound,
Aft gourmet delight; shall you no more be found,
Stuffed yes your are; as bell pepper might be,
Most certainly you shall; be a wonder to me,
With onions and mushrooms; and a bit of six cheese,
No doubt you shall be; much more than a tease,
Fulfilling in two ways; by my mouth and my belly,
Adding rice and a spice; makes my legs turn to jelly,
Now I bid you farewell; as you make your traverse,
Along your fine way; in my porcelain hearse.
What shall you be; when cooked to the end,
A morsel perhaps; and more I am sure,
Your beginnings were modest; most certainly pure,
Begun as a seed; and raised to be squat,
I could now allow you; to be less than you ought,
A tiger striped squash; no more than a pound,
Aft gourmet delight; shall you no more be found,
Stuffed yes your are; as bell pepper might be,
Most certainly you shall; be a wonder to me,
With onions and mushrooms; and a bit of six cheese,
No doubt you shall be; much more than a tease,
Fulfilling in two ways; by my mouth and my belly,
Adding rice and a spice; makes my legs turn to jelly,
Now I bid you farewell; as you make your traverse,
Along your fine way; in my porcelain hearse.
All content © 2008 Keith E Larson
