Sunday, July 21, 2013

584 : The Potato and the Fork


Imaginary Garden with Real Toads invites us to write a love letter
between two inanimate objects.  This is more a love story than a love letter,
but on a quiet Sunday morning, close enough.


The Potato and the Fork

In the darkness of the kitchen,
When all the work was through,
A piece of cutlery took the chance
To do what love must do:
He meekly asked a potato
“What sort of fruit are you?”

The spud, it was the starchy type,
Not one for idle talk,
It mixed with all the proper folk,
Like lamb and beef and pork,
And felt it had a place in life
Above a common fork.

But the fork, it still persisted
(Though you have to wonder why)
It summoned all its courage
And had another try—
“Potato dear, I must confess,
You're the apple of my eye!”

“Sod off, you little prong-y thing!”
(The reply was rather tart)
“My mother told me of your type
And I’m not about to start;
You get behind my defences 
Then pierce me through the heart!”

“Not true!” the fork cried, in dismay,
“Your mother has it wrong!
My uncle was a tuning fork
Here, let me sing a song!”
He then sang of his forky love,
Of passion hot and strong.

Oh, the potato, she was smitten,
Her heart was all aflutter,
In the face of the fork’s hot love
She melted just like butter,
“That’s not a good analogy”
Her Mother’s ghost would utter.

It’s said in war and also love
That everything is fair,

And so it came to pass one night,
Upon some dinnerware,
The fork fulfilled his destiny
And skewered his pomme de terre.
.
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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013
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25 comments:

  1. Very enjoyable read. I can tell you had fun doing this. Love the play on words. Poor potato fell for the line though. Heart melted like butter. lol. Nice!

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  2. Love it..gotta watch those forks they will stab your heart every time.

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  3. AnonymousJuly 21, 2013

    Well, fork me!

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  4. (Sound of me, giggling.) Rhyming dinnerware with pomme de terre was a stroke of genius. So's the whole thing.
    Toughest part of the challenge was, for me, deciding on two inanimate objects. I was about to write words on little pieces of paper and pull two out of a hat.
    Love this one. I understand the mother's ghost, but I love the poem.
    K

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  5. Haha! This is excellent! Your narrative dialogue is witty and well-conceived, the rhyming spot-on and the tale itself is a caution! I loved it.

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  6. I think I was a pomme de terre in a different life ...;P

    xxx

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    Replies
    1. AnonymousJuly 21, 2013

      Apparently RDG enjoys being forked ...!

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    2. Not a word will pass my cherry-pink lips! Oh? What? It did? Mmm...

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    3. AnonymousJuly 24, 2013

      Your lips are not cherry pink!

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    4. Good point Anon, though I believe he does look sweet in a deep fuchsia gloss.

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    5. AnonymousJuly 24, 2013

      Difficult colour to remove from the shirt collars...Dead giveaway!

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  7. AnonymousJuly 21, 2013

    I loved this poem

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  8. Absolutely brilliant. I loved it.

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  9. hahaha! not a good analogy! love it. really wonderful!

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  10. HaHaHa! I laughed aloud! This could be an Aesop's Fable, though it is much more clever.

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  11. I love the playfulness of your poetic fable~
    And the dish ran away with the spoon ;D
    so they say!

    Love yours!
    Tines of passion ring so true

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  12. Forked over with style!

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  13. Just terrific. Much much enjoyed. (Karin - manicddaily.) So so clever - your meter, rhyme, story, wit. k. (manicddaily - karin - wordpress.)

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  14. Sigh...I would love to be your little roast potato!

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    Replies
    1. (memo to self) Don't say it, don't say it. Be strong! Be strong!

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    2. Saucy little tuber, that one Cosmo!

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  15. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    Replies
    1. I love the dialogue!! Really a fun poem...thank you!

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