In verdant fields, a humble head does grow,
A tightly bound, leafy globe of green,
Its form unassuming, yet we come to know
That in its essence, magic can be seen.
A cabbage stout, its layers hold firm and tight,
A symbol of resilience, strength untold,
Its presence on our tables brings delight,
A vegetable of worth, a treasure to behold.
With every crisp leaf, a story is told,
Of farmers toiling under golden sun,
Of seasons changing, as the world unfolds,
Of life’s constants, where simplicity is won.
Oh cabbage, guardian of earthly soils,
Nurtured by nature’s hand, by rain and sun,
Through frigid winters and hot summer’s toils,
You teach us of endurance, you are never undone.
And as we partake in your humble feast,
We taste your nourishment and feel your grace,
A reminder that simplicity brings peace,
And in simplicity, true meaning we embrace.
So, let us celebrate this green delight,
A vegetable that quietly takes its place,
In gardens, on our plates, in poems that ignite,
A reverence for all things humble, with grace.