Ode to a Bergine
Or ‘Bergine’ –
Depending on how you are pronounced –
You are no rubber plant
Nor a Robert Plant
And you can only supplant the noble eggplant
By means of your location
It is, therefore, your vocation
In the UK upon vacation
To be known as a Bergine to our nation.
You are a very dark shade of green
And neither do you look or smell or taste (probably)
Like Ernest Borgnine.
Once forgotten you are never scene
And bear no resemblance to a tangerine (apart from in rhyme)
Which is to say that you are divine…
Oops! Did I cross the line?
I am too keen
You are much cooler than Mr Bean
And almost as classy as the late James Dean
In essence, I think that you are nothing routine
You are the finest zucchini
I have ever seen…
What? A zucchini is not another name for your flashy mien?