Playing With Your Food
The beans stood on the boundary.
The spuds were in the slips.
The carrot stood at silly point.
At gully were the chips.
At deep square leg the celery was ready with the dips.
The VI Peas were in the stands and banking on a draw.
The soup came steaming in to bowl.
You should’ve heard the roar.
But the apple read the line and length,
and tonked the ball for four.
The veggies needed wickets, so they introduced a spinner,
an aubergine, that many times had proved to be a winner,
and now it had the chance to gain the upper hand at dinner.
A fizzing ball just clipped the pads.
“Howzat!” cried Brussel Sprout.
The spuds appealed in unison.
There wasn’t any doubt.
The pepper grinder quite agreed and gave the lemon out.
The fruits were looking shaky, so the veg sent on their quicks,
who fired down some bouncers with a googly in the mix,
but the avocado wasn’t fazed and smashed them all for six.
Now the apple at the city end just needed one more run,
and when it smacked a cover drive it knew the game was won.
Oh, what a way to end the match and score a maiden ton.
Yes, playing with your food is wrong, but also heaps of fun.
Chris Owen 2018
I find myself cheering. What a great game. Terrific wordplay.
I really enjoyed your poem, Chris.
Fabulous