A poem by Beverly Stock.
© Seamartini and Ba-mi | Dreamstime.com
The head said, “Lettuce eat and celebrate.”
The pit smiled, “Olive silly puns.”
“All in good thyme,” said Cumin.
“I don’t carrot all,'' said the Turnip.
White bread said, “Wait, I have a hunch!”
Rye proclaimed, “You’re loafing around.”
The peach sighed, “Shall we call a truce? I’m extending an olive brunch.”
Lactose said, “You’re really milking this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?
“Wheat a second,” the corn popped, “ You oat to say you’re sorry!”
“Back in the fridge!” Pecan cried, “Chef’s going nuts! They cut his celery!”
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