Carrots

Posted: October 18, 2010 in Carrots
Tags: , ,

It was a cold late winter morning
When, stomach rumbling, mouth wide-yawning,
I decided to begin
(I knew it not to be a sin)
A meal never made in a Cambridge garret,
A meal where all was made from carrot.

Carrot flakes and carrot strips,
Carrot sauce for carrot dips,
Carrot bread and carrot soup,
Carrot juice that went gloup!
Carrot cake and carrot toast,
Carrottes sautées and carrot roast,
Carrot this and carrot that,
At least they’ll never make you fat!

But they’ll do other things, my friends,
Beware the carrot and the carrot ends;
For they will smell
Like unto the compost heaps of hell,
And the juices, they will stain like devils,
Testifying to your dreadful orange revels.

Carrot flakes and carrot strips,
I had carrots at my finger tips!
Carrot bread and carrot soup,
I ate them all, my gut went gloup!
Carrot cake and carrot toast,
Begone, begone you orange ghost!
Carrot this and carrot that,
Overcome, I fell down flat.

In orange robes did gardeners
A stately scene compose:
Where three young girls could yet impress
Not with their looks but with their dress
Of carrot coloured clothes.
So thrice ten feet of orange sheet,
With one reclining on a seat,
And there were garlands bright with frills,
Where blossomed many carrot shoots,
And here was lacking depth or hills,
And sunny spots for carrot roots.

All those who see them there,
All should say, beware! Beware!
Their half closed eyes, their tied back hair!
Weave a shovel round them thrice,
And close your eyes with healthy dread,
For they from carrot flesh hath bred,
The vegetables of Paradise.

James Harriman-Smith

Albert Joseph Moore Midsummer, 1887

Comments
  1. A bit of context for the curious:

    This poem is the product of three things, Moore’s *Midsummer* (the picture at the bottom of the page), an amusing conversation with a friend about dining habits, and, last but by no means least, Coleridge’s great visionary poem, *Kubla Kahn*.

    The text of the latter can be found here:

    http://www.bartleby.com/101/550.html

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