I don't possess a green thumb,
So you can imagine my surprise,
When a plant I planted recently,
One day began to rise.
I saw a tiny, round, green object,
Tucked underneath a leaf,
"Look, look!" I called my husband,
He came. He touched. I shrieked!
He jumped sky-high, I startled him,
"Good Grief! What's wrong?" he asked,
"What's that green thing on our plant?"
In awed tones, I asked him back.
"Well, with any luck," he smiled,
"It may become a ripe tomato,"
He grinned, "What did you think it was,
A little, green potato?"
He made me feel quite foolish,
But I didn't really care,
My joy was overwhelming,
A real, live tomato there.
Every day I tended it,
Under his wise and watchful eye,
I watered, sprayed, and fed it,
And I was filled with pride.
Soon, that little, green tomato,
Had become big, and red, and fat,
I was so proud, I strutted,
Like a brand new mother cat.
"Honey," I asked my husband then,
"Is it okay now to pick it?
Is it done enough to eat it yet?"
He said, "Wait - hold on a minute."
"Another day, I think it needs."
He looked wise as wise could be,
As if he knew whereof he spoke,
So I said, "Okay with me."
So the next day, bright and early,
Armed with my gardening tools,
I planned to harvest my valued crop,
And pluck my big, red jewel.
I went out to the garden,
And there, to my surprise,
Was absolutely nothing,
I could not believe my eyes.
The beautiful fruit of my labor,
Had completely disappeared,
The vine was there; the leaves were there,
But nothing else was near.
I got down on my hands and knees
To see if it had dropped,
But there was no sign for me to find,
Of my fine tomato crop.
I called my husband, and I cried
Bitter tears of devastation,
He hugged me, and he soothed me,
As he appraised the situation.
"Well, sweetheart, no doubt about it,
The tomato has been stolen,
But, it's only just a piece of fruit,
Not something that was golden."
I dried my eyes. He didn't get it.
"Oh, honey, don't you know?
It wasn't just a piece of fruit,
It was OUR TOMATO!"