Potato Day Poem

By Buddy Lawrence, Harwich

"It only happens once a year.
It's called Potato Day.
You go into a big marquee,
and out there on display,
there's boxes placed on tables,
and inside them they hold,
A myriad of seed potatoes
there's one called Yukon Gold.

The whole thing is well-organised
you have to queue in line,
and wait until they open up.
It starts at half-past nine.

Then in like ants, swarm connoisseurs,
and amateurs as well,
each looking for their favourites,
and maybe - who can tell ?
They'll find something that's different,
they didn't know about.
Varieties they thought long gone;
they're still there, have no doubt.

The volunteers who run the day,
some regular, some new,
will still be there at next year's day,
and hope to see you, too."

 

Mr Lawrence was a first-time visitor to Potato Day last year (2015) who subsequently sent us this poem which we think
sums up potato day brilliantly.  He has kindly given us permission to print it here for fellow
potato day enthusiasts.