There’s a competition in the garden
The catwalk of the flowers
They lift their colorful showy heads
As they while away the hours
The Iris thinks she has the best dress
The Poppies blush bright orange
The Pansies call out “Look at me!”
And the Dahlias rearrange
But the lowly little potato flowers
Are of the humbler kind
You may just walk right by them,
As they murmur, “never mind”
While the popular flowers are preening
and showing off their stuff
The potato is doing some very deep work
Starchy, dirty and rough
When the iris’s dress is all dried up
And the poppy’s blush has died,
The potatoes rise up in victory
For lo, they become french fried!
I’ll probably delete this in the morning, my sweet potato flowers. ❤️
Lynniebeemuseoday 