Papery whisps wrapped 'round the crown,
you have to plant this bulb 10 inches down.
At summers end you'll see plumes of green,
and seed cones that are quite amazing.
After they open and give birth to their young,
you may harvest, enjoying the work that needs done.
Storing and cleaning, besides just a few,
they have places to get to, perhaps in ragu.
Hot olive oil sizzling, waits in the pan,
I get the stuff ready with an experienced hand.
Peeling the whisps, then down the knife goes,
creating a mash, bitterly filling my nose.
A contest entry
- GARLIC CONTEST by Olivias Violin.
400 points, ended August 31, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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I like the part about growing the garlic, especially
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