Let this poem sing the praise of the beet,

A finer vegetable you will not meet,
Not bland, not mushy, but delicate treat,
Displaying the best of savory and sweet.
The ways to make it are vast and wide,
Pickled, steamed, stewed and deep fried,
Its color is bright, a fun purplish-red,
So I don’t recommend eating beets in bed,
Though, I’m not Keats, nor Shelley or Byron,
I can tell you beets are a good source of iron,
To find lovers of beets just go to Ukraine,
Did you know that beets are good for the brain?
By increasing blood flow and rates of decay,
Things like dementia will long stay away,
And research shows, yes science, not rumor,
Stuff found in beets slows the growth of a tumor,
It’s got folates, fiber, phosphorous, magnesium,
Full of Vitamin C, B6, a great source of potassium,
And if the beetroot just isn’t your scene,
Then I ask you to turn your gaze to the greens,
If you thought they were trash, I’ve got a surprise,
Their delicious soup and great for your eyes,
If a good accompaniment is something you seek,
Try a fellow overlooked flavorful leek,
So get you some beets wherever they’re servin’,
At least so you can pee some reddish urine.