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Old 09-30-2005, 12:01 AM
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Charivari Charivari is offline
Fighting Nave Realism
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Ellensburg, WA
Posts: 4,185
Found this poem on the 'net.

Brussels Sprouts
Catharine Savage Brosman

In drag-foot March, and fastening my coat

against a churlish wind, as I arrive

at the greengrocer's stall I have in mind

Bermuda onions, chard, asparagus,

red peppers, corn-a salad for the eye

and long-stemmed hothouse marvels hastening

the spring in every hue; but daffodils

to mark St. David's Day have frumpy blooms,

carnations wither, and the tulip buds

are February's orphans. As for fruit

and vegetables, the apples look as hard

as wood, and flavorless; my leafy thought

of salads dies. But broccoli is out

in florets, with the kindred cabbages

and Brussels sprouts. Such lowly ancestry

they have, these sprouts, so plain! They could be beads

or dresser knobs, or marbles for a game

with winter, and at thirty-seven pence

a pound are not patrician. Yet their sweet

and minimal design, their modesty,

repeating an idea of round desire

and touched with Cezanne blue, invite conceits

with painted tables, sunshine in the shape

of fruit, a bowl, a porcelain carafe,

or curtains at a window by Matisse

as if in all things green there were a grace

awaiting hand or eye to contemplate

the world transcended in its common ways.
- JP
One of the greatest pains to human nature is the pain of a new idea. Walter Bagehot
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