“Tomatoes”
Smelling like sunshine,
Tasting like rain,
Go to the garden,
The tomatoes have ripened again.
Unravel the vine,
And reveal the fruit,
Enclose it in your hands,
It'll fit like a suit.
Next find the berries,
Wrapped in a green nest.
Step carefully now,
And get rid of any pest.
Pick them softly,
Don't let them drop.
Treat them kindly.
They are the best crop.
Listen to the words of grandmother,
Let her guide your hands.
Let her tell you stories,
Of strange characters and lands.
Listen to the words of grandfather,
For he begs us to heed to his warnings.
Like, don't wander late at night,
Or it'll cost you more than farthings.
Listen to the words of mother,
Let her show you the best way
To clean behind the ears
And keep dangers at bay.
Listen to the words of father,
He'll show you how to wield tools,
Ones that you can use to heal
Or to enforce certain rules.
Did you pick the tomatoes?
Go now and sing their song:
They'll smell of sunshine and taste like rain,
All will be well,
And good
once again.
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