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The wonderful spud !

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Walter brought you to our humble land,

The Queen looked puzzled when he held it in his hand,

This root veg planted in the ground,

Quite oddly shaped a sort of round,

So in a few lines maybe I should

Pay homage to the wonderful spud,

Be it as Chips or roasted or still in its Jacket,

Once copied by Aliens and sold in a packet,

For without ye potato, where would we be,

The pride of many a British tea,

Mashed or boiled, old and new,

Without you potato just what would we do.



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