For the Love of Green Beans

 

How do I hate love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee morning, noon and night,
Which times I am forced to pick thee,
Searching out of sight amongst the greeny leaves of doom.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, because indeed, I have to eat you,
EVERY STINKIN' DAY OF THE WEEK.
(not that I'm complaining)
I love thee freely, because you're cheap.
I love thee purely, being so wicked organic.
I love thee with the passion put to use
from grief of creaky knees and back.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose...

Oh who am I kidding? 'Tis sick to death of thee, I am!
If God so chose, a blight of deer should ravage amongst thy beany fronds.
Frankly, my dear,

I prefer corn.

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