Poems ✍️

Harvested just after the first frost
The viney tops are blackened and soft.
And underneath like potatoes all snug in the soil
Are Spanish peanuts that reward farmer's toil.
Dig up the vine or pull if you like
Last summer blossom was set in a spike
Beneath the soil protected from harm
It waits for harvest and being stored in the barn.

Properly dried and free of sand
These goobers are prizes that tempt any man.
But when last year's production's no longer about.
Some are tempted and its cousin, the green nut is often sought out,
Pulled from the vine, too early in the season.
Shouldn't be done and there's good reason.

The gut aches when challenged to stomach
This green seed from the Georgia Plains patch.
And, if that's not enough, they exit a roaring
From gases passed, in odiferous blowing.
So be patient and wait for this season's nut.
There's no need to suffer such a pain in the b-.

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