Potatoes Poem by JIM MOWAT
Potatoes
POTATOES GROW IN A FIELD
OFF SPRIKLING WATER
LIKE LIGHT CAN’T CACTH THEM SO BRIGHT
PEOPLE PICK THEM WITH THE
POWER OF THERE HANDS SO FAST
SO KNOW ONE CAN SEE A THING
THEY KEEP THEM IN THE FRIDGE
SO THEY ARE KEEPT FRESH SO PEOPLE
CAN EAT THEM THE NEXT DAY
THEY ARE LIKE SOFT PILLOWS IN A BOWL
IN THE FRIDGE
NOW I WONDER WHY THEY
ARE SO POWERFUL TO
EAT EVERYDAY
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4/23/2024 11:09:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
