Sonnetato: Ode to a sweet potato

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee with my touch, tongue and tummy,
The way you stink up the room like bacon,
For all the midnight snack sessions we shared.
I love thee to the level of crazy
The way your strings tickle on the way down.
I love thee wholly, despite your uncanny resemblance to an oversized fluorescent slug;
I love thee organically, as you are.
I love thee with the passion of hunger,
With my love for the whole orange food group.
I love thee fried, mashed, a pie, tots or baked.
Others scold—they who smell thee on my breath.
Best taste, of all my life!—and, topped with chives,
I can now happily accept my death.

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Hi, I'm Marian.
By day, I'm a PR maven with a nerdy affinity for research and branding. By night, I'm an explorer; I delve into books, food, design, and the murky waters of my own psyche, then share my musings here.





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