The Dinner Plates of Old England by Hereward the Worzel
The dinner plates of old England
are forever under threat
by foreign foes of every hue
from Capsicum to Courgette.
Since Romans brought their zucchini
to plant roots in English soil
invaders from around the world
have come, soaked in olive oil.
'taters from the Virginias,
Tomaters from Armenia,
Perfidious papist mange-tout peas?
They gave us schizophrenia.
The zestful, sneering citrus fruits
with their gaudy, ghastly skins
give native apples a complex, but
the fightback now begins.
Mangol Wurzel warriors, warlords
of the noble turnip clan
marshal radishes, parsnips, beets;
plumed carrots march in our van.
We will ally our armies with
hoards of stately English greens,
make kitchen gardens safe again
for honest native beans.
Hark to the hungry Englishman,
and heed his famished shouts
the phlegms can go back to Brussels,
and they can keep their sprouts
We shall drive out the offcomer,
no compote or julienne,
but steaming hunks of boiled grey gunk,
food fit for Xenophon.