The Parboiled Detectives
          "It was the vegetables!" accused the lumpy lad.
          "I tried to tell my mother they were very, very bad.
          Here we sat enjoying a hot and healthy meal,
          When my dear, sweet mother began to spin and reel."
(5)**    The farmer gathered the suspects around the kitchen table.
          "Which of you has done this to my darling wife, Mabel?
          Who made this lovely lady flush and faint and fall?
          I want the one who did this or I will take you all."
          "Let us work together," begged the iceberg and romaine,
(10)**   As the angry farmer tossed them above the kitchen drain.
          "I wasn’t stalking her!" cried the crisp, green celery.
          "So, please keep that paring knife far away from me!"
          "Let’s dip a little further, you are a reasonable bloke,
          We’ll get to the heart of this," prevailed the artichoke.
(15)**   But, the farmer was losing patience; his face was turning red,
          The lady had done her fainting before the hungry farmer was fed.
          The tomato saw an opening and hopped onto the floor.
          "I’m not a veggie," he said, rolling out the door.
          "Halt!" yelled the farmer in red-hot pursuit.
(20)**    "You are a suspect—vegetable or fruit."
          They raced through the garden, row after row,
          Till the angry farmer tripped on the garden hoe.
          "That’s it!" declared the farmer, rubbing his bumpy head.
          He started pulling veggies from their safe and comfy bed.
(25)**    The vegetables started to panic, not knowing what to do,
          To keep themselves from becoming a pot of veggie stew.
          Until the brave potato shouted above the others’ cries,
          "The whole thing happened right before this tater’s eyes."
          A gasp escaped from the veggies—red, yellow and green.
(30)**   Just what would the spud say his many eyes had seen?
          "It wasn’t the asparagus, the beets, or watercress,
          It was the lad who caused the lady to be in such distress."
          "It’s true!" declared the corncob. "I heard it with my own ears.
          The lady is quite lucky she didn’t drown in her own tears.
(35)**   She tried to feed him the onion, the spinach, and the pea.
          She offered him every vegetable, working from A to Z.
          No matter what she offered to her picky, stubborn son,
          The answer stayed the same, "No thanks. I’ll have none."
          If only he had tasted the red peppers or bok choy,
(40)   The farmer would be dining with his wife and little boy."