The Humble Tomato

Fruit of the vine,
but yielding no wine
Some say it’s a veg
Resplendent in red
Not worth a dispute
Accept it as fruit
Tended with care
The branches thus bear
Kissed by the sun
Sprayed by the gun
In due time the reward
As the plant cedes it hoard
In salads regaled
Its merit revealed
In sauce or as juice
Its vigour let loose
No matter our devotion to the common potato
Its charms far outweighed by the humble tomato

Ken Fisher