A Brussels Sprout Can Dream of Christmas

 

A Brussels Sprout Can Dream of Christmas

When I grow up I want to be....
A present under a Christmas tree.
"You can't be that," my mama shouts,
"Get back in line with the other sprouts!"

I don't care, I have ambition,
I'll improve by my own volition.
"Don't be daft or make a fracas
You belong within the brassicas."

I want to break out of that mould,
Being stacked on stalks is just too cold,
Allow my leaves to spread and fly
You don't need to know the reason why.

I know a Brussels sprout is wee,
But size shouldn't dictate who we be.
We're segregated on the plate,
Limited by colour, size and weight.

I would rather be desired,
Advertised to the lengths required.
Bought and packaged with tied-on bow,
Placed close by the tree, or just below.

I'd be unwrapped on Christmas morn
And revealed just like being reborn,
My heart as big as a Savoy,
Received as given, in love and joy!

Tony Spencer
Dec 7 2021

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