A Gastronomic Ditty

The onion lay low in the dark soily ground,
The tomato grew in the light;
The little tomato was ruddy and round,
The tiny onion ’twas white.

And redder and redder she coloured above;
And paler the onion was now;
But neither suspected a mutual love,

Till they met in the Turkish pilau.

by Abdullah Quilliam


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