Oh peaches, once so firm and sweet, I could not buy enough.
But soon the heat of summer’s day removed your youthful fluff.
In the fridge you sat and wilted,
No one touched you, you were jilted.
And then one day I ventured in, to see if all was lost
I found you wrinkled, soft and ugly,
I had the urge to toss.
And yet, a hint, a whiff, of your early glory remained
Hidden behind your withered coat.
I’d coax it out, I’d show the world that old shan’t be forgot.
With some slicing, some dicing, some sugar and water
A little simmering and love,
Your inner beauty shown once again.
(Hey, readers, what were you expecting, Shakespeare?)