Tomatoes are her favorite fruit. She just can’t get enough.
She hates tomatoes from the store. They’re colorless and tough.
And so she buys some tender plants and puts them in the soil.
Waits patiently ‘til she can see reward for all her toil.
And then one day some blooms appear. She’s happy, awed and pleased.
She looks through cookbooks, Google too, to find new recipes.
She thought the day would never come when she would find one red.
She checked them every single day, but all were green instead.
And then one day her hope picked up. She saw a hint of red.
She dreamed of rich spaghetti sauce, that night while in her bed.
Within a week her garden peaked. Tomatoes everywhere!
She picked them morning, noon and night, but still there were more there.
She filled up buckets, tubs and crates. She pawned them off on friends.
She cooked them every way she knew, made sauces, stews and blends.
Her hairdresser, her postman too partook of her excess.
She left some on each neighbor’s porch (at night, she did confess).
At last, she sighs. They’re finally gone. Now she can get some rest.
But then she spies her apple tree producing with a zest!