Half a cabbage, shadowed low and deep,
Wrapped in plastic took its chance to grow,
Stretched its leaves, awoke from cabbage sleep
Near cheese forgotten also long ago.
We found it and then found a pot and so
A cabbage we once ate, one half of two,
Turned into one again with light and grew.
Text: Linked to dVerse Poetics. Lillian is hosting and she asks us to look at what’s in our refrigerator. The poem is written in Chaucerian stanza (also called rime royal or rhyme royal). I will be using this form for Thursday’s Form for All post.
Photos: “Lucky Cabbage”, above, and “Half Cabbage in a Pot”, below, by the author.
Excellent work, Frank. I really enjoyed it. ‘Cheese forgotten also long ago’ seems rather archaic, but since it is scooped in with a modicum of humor, it doesn’t really matter too much. Love ‘awoke from cabbage sleep’.
Been absent from blogging as working on my writing portfolio. Will comment more regularly soon.
Have a great day!
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The writing portfolio is important. Best wishes on your writing. Blogging can take up a lot of time. I’m glad you enjoyed the poem and I agree the phrase about the cheese sounds archaic. Thank you, Ronnie!
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“cabbage sleep” …. hmmmm….I’m wondering if that’s different from rye bread sleep (way in the back of the fridge) or lemon-half sleep, in the bottom of the fruit drawer, smothered in saran wrap and growing some tart something! 🙂
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The rye bread might not be able to grow anymore except as a base for whatever that stuff is that grows on stuff when left too long in the refrigerator. The cabbage I suspect was protected by the plastic which acted as a sort of greenhouse. Thanks, Lillian, and thanks for hosting!
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A great story 💜
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Thank you!
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You fooled me with the ‘near cheese’ – clever line break. This is delisciously written and I really love the Chaucerian verse! (I completed your Challenge and am holding it for Thursday.) Lovely photos, as ever.
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Thanks, Jilly! It was just near some old cheese and probably other stuff I can’t remember.
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Yes, but the way you broke the line made me think, just for a split second, that your frig held something called ‘near cheese’ – a strange yogurty sort of thing 🙂
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That sounds yummy and maybe marketable. 🙂
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Perfect art, and what a great life model you had for it Frank!
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It was a life model! I am glad I remembered to take pictures of it. Thanks, Peter!
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A fresh and colorful find! (K)
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It was a delightful find. Thank you!
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I’ve had onions and garlic spread out and come to life in the fridge. It sounds like you have the same green thumb, congratulations!
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I can see onions and garlic doing that. I didn’t think cabbage would, especially after being cut in two, but now I wonder what else might grow in there (besides mold). It’s good to have a green thumb! Thanks, Walter!
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Thank you Frank!
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Fertile poem and pot (I might try that with my own ‘sleeping’ quarter red) – though I doubt my efforts will reward as richly as this elegant piece. V. nice.
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I think having it in plastic protected it. I do think it was “sleeping” or dormant since I understand plants do that, but I don’t know the science. I hope its dreams were pleasant–if it dreamed. Thanks, Peter!
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Perhaps this could’ve been posted as a Hope poem as well. A lesson learned inadvertently. Great write, Frank!
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It is a kind of hope poem now that you mention it. Too many words for a quadrille, but hope is not so restricted. Thanks, Charley!
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Hope should never be restricted.
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Congrats! I know you aren´t a fan of Pablo Neruda, but he wrote some humorous odes on unusual ode sujects. Now I defy you to compose an “Ode on the Cabbage” to round it up.
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Considering what that cabbage went through in the refrigerator, I probably owe it an ode. I’m going to have to look up what an ode is and maybe use that as a prompt form as well. I’ll see if I can find Neruda’s humorous odes. I did read him in the early 70s when I was trying to learn Spanish in Mexico. Thanks, Danik!
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Nice !!! Kisses ❤ ❤ ❤
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Thank you!
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Nice! I’ve had things grow in my fridge too. Onions, spuds, and mold! Nice poem. What is near cheese?
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Yes, potatoes grow as well. The cabbage was near some old cheese. I don’t know what “near cheese” is either. If I use this poem again, I will have to fix that potential source of confusion. Thanks, Mary!
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I love food poems
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Thank you!
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Who knew that cabbage would start growing? Love poem and photo!
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It was the first and only time it happened for us. I needed the photo as proof. Thank you!
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Those little cabbage leaflets look delicious.
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It was a tasty cabbage as I recall. I don’t know why we left it in the fridge for so long. Thank you, Jane!
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really? Cabbages can do that? We have successfully planted sad and yellowed scallions, and even celery. Nice to know cabbages can be ‘resurrected’ too. 🙂
I agree with the others when they say that your piece is also a poem of hope.
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It is a rebirth, resurrection poem of sorts. I didn’t know celery would do that, too. Thanks, Imelda!
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The knowledge was from too many science experiments involving celery to help kids learn about plants. 🙂
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Oh I learn something new today, Frank! thank you for our post. Now I know what to do with my half, forgotten cabbage!
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I hope it grows! We were surprised to see it. Thank you, Miriam!
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Some t vegetables do reseed, such as green onions. Would be interesting tho find out.
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A very interesting poem, Frank.
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Thank you, Robbie!
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I like “shadowed, low and deep”…in an airtight drawer in the frig, maybe?
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It was on the low shelf in the back and so out of easy sight. It was also wrapped in a plastic bag which I think might have protected it in some way. I may have to try a science experiment and see if we can reproduce the results. Thank you, Kathy!
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Lovely to read about a happy cabbage that has grown again. I thought about doing this with carrot ends and now I know it works, that’s a plan! Thanks Frank! I love the personification in ‘Stretched its leaves, awoke from cabbage sleep’.
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I think plants actually do “sleep” by some definition of that word. I don’t know if that is what it was doing in the refrigerator. I haven’t tried it with carrots, but I suspect they would work as well. Thanks, Kim!
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Hot greetings from sunny Luz in Portugal! Today unfortunately returning to the German refrigerator B-)
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Greetings from the Chicago area. I don’t know what brand of refrigerator we have. It came with the town house and has been running well for fifteen years. Thank you!
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That’s masterful. Heroic couplets to tell a small story of growth and regeneration!
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The Chaucerian stanza has two opportunities for heroic couplets. I am glad you liked it!
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Forget the poem (which is as great as usual, by the way) – can you really do that with a cabbage? Really? I’m going to have to give that a go.
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I didn’t think that was possible either until we saw the cabbage in the back of the bottom shelf with a leaf growing out of the flat portion which was facing up. It was in a plastic wrapper. I think that protected it. I haven’t tried to repeat the experiment, but I suspect it should work if one takes half of a cabbage and plants that directly with the cut side up and skipping the refrigerator phase. Thanks, Sarah!
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Amazing!!!
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Thank you, Annell! I am amazed at what happened with that cabbage. It makes me wonder what I’m eating.
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I love this poem. It says so much so simply.
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Thank you! If it wasn’t for that cabbage, there would have been no poem.
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I love second chances!
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I wonder what the cabbage was thinking awaking in the refrigerator. Thanks, Candy!
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This is great! I love hearing you!
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I am glad you enjoyed the audio. I make it as a final test for myself to see if the poem sounds good enough. Thank you!
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I had no idea that this could happen to cabbage…. potatoes yes, but never seen it with cabbage. Resurrection from its rot.
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I haven’t seen it either, but then we usually eat the cabbage in a few days. This one we forgot about. Thanks, Bjorn!
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I love that you gave it a chance. I always try to plant things that grow in the frig like that.
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I was amazed that the cabbage did that. We didn’t want to eat it after that and we have plenty of pots. Thanks, JoAnna!
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How cool is that? And you told it so well. Thanks.
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Thank you, Susan! That is one cabbage I won’t forget.
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I love your lyrical wordplay with this one. What a creative use of cabbage, too!
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Thanks, Frank! It the cabbage didn’t actually grow like that I wouldn’t have anything to write about.
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loved this, especially cabbage sleep… have had lettuce regrow when i left it with all the leaves used up ;; cheese long forgotten is an often seen sight in our house
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We eat little cheese (or dairy). That is probably why we forgot we had it. I didn’t know that lettuce would regrow, but given what I saw with the cabbage, it should. Thank you!
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Falls of Passion Flowers
Glow Red In Pure Nature Flow
Climate Change at Hand
Summers Never
Ending
Winters
Never Coming
it seems.. this year
only one Passion Flower
at Ground Reach and one
in Top of Tree Vine almost
too far to see.. Culture
Giveth
Culture
Cancer Taketh
Beauty Away A (the)
Lion of Nature Roars
Back Paul Revere i Am STiLL HeAR..:)
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Summers never ending and winters never here would be a severe climate change. This could be a culture cancer. Thanks, Fred!
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Or Chicago
Without
Wind..:)
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I enjoyed the humour and was delighted to see the cabbage grew again….How fabulous.
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It was amazing to see it in the refrigerator. Thank you, Alison!
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