Stop to find the forgotten few
beneath the weeds like hidden jewels.
Red, rose, yellow and green
The most luscious fruits I’ve ever seen.
They look glorious and plump from above.
Fresh tomatoes I do so love.
Stop to gather all the loot
bend down and look to find the shoot
From which to gently pry away
My delectable prize for the day.
Getting closer, drawing near
Whiteflies fluttering around my ears.
I’m so close, I can nearly taste it
That beautiful tomato must not be wasted.
The hunt is over,
I’m ready to strike.
Pruners at the ready,
Grocery bag at my side.
Stop for a moment.
Remember the story
of all it took
to go from seed, to sprout, to flower, to fruit.
So take one last look and remember the story
while you stare at this fruit in all it’s glory.
Mental picture taken.
Pride has been gathered.
There’s no mistakin’
This plant looks quite tattered.
But dammit, we started this thing from a seed
and we got it to make fruit and that fruit is for me!
Enough messing around,
Enough has been spoken,
Pick that mater before it gets broken!
Blood is rising
up into my face.
I cannot believe this big disgrace!
I pluck the fruit from the vine
only to feel as if I’ve been slimed.
my precious jewel,
Has been bitten, one bite
that could not be viewed.
But certainly felt
the juices running and streaming.
Face has gone red and now I am screaming
For the love of Pete! And a choice other few
Why is it that you have to do
this horrible, terrible, awful thing,
to my tomato
my reason to sing?
For the love of Pete! And a choice other few,
Just eat the whole thing,
Is that so hard to do?
If you’d have left no evidence
for me to find,
I would not feel the urge to shoot your behind!
So get that hiney back over here.
Finish your tomato, you stupid deer!
Whatever you are.
Finish your tomato
or I’ll hunt you with my car!
Now tossing tomatoes
up over the fence.
One, two, three……Ten
My pride has gone humble
my anger subsided.
If they think they have won,
they are misguided.
Critters score one.
But I will not crumble.
There will be a next time,
But I will not fumble.
I WILL get there first,
to the treasure site.
I WILL find the loot.
I WILL take the first bite.
And one other thing…..
I will actually finish my fruit.
Original Poetry by Marie Stephens Copyright 2013