Ode to the Parsnip

Ode to the Parsnip, aka I Dig A Parsnip

How doth the humble parsnip root

Improve our Spring morale

How sweet to eat a thawed out fruit

Dug from one’s own locale


How patiently he seems to wait

How silent, bides his time

He passes twice thru Nick’s own gate

Before he makes the climb


In works of butter and of salt,

most things will taste good, true

It tastes of dirt and sweetest malt

and goes with any brew


Don’t be afraid though it looks lewd

it makes a decent fuel

It tastes good roasted, raw, or stewed

so eat, don’t be a Fool



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