Humus me? My vegetated chokes ingest!

(jokes all in jest)

Hard to believe, I orange in a lee

started life as barely visible speck!

Just in the course of healthy growing

season, this former minute nearly

microscopic entity developed into

quite pleasing nose cone herbivorous

specimen, though modesty restrains

me to rattle off an excess of adjectives

to describe fine physique of this

munch able mealy mouthed morsel.

Though my existence the epitome of

any ordinary carrot, the natural and

man-made dangers got drilled into my

cortex from the moment sprouts spring

from that black kin décor fleck.

Matter of fact, the bunch of family

members frequently primed and trained

in case creature with row of sharp

front teeth seeks fancy feast

These practice drills catapulted me,

(and others in same graduating class)

to cope with what crops up out of

deeply grounded growing

sense of false security.

Although just equipped with only

circular reddish trunk, and lack

extra limbs to apply defensive

maneuvers, the techniques taught

to us at prestigious carrot league

school focused on artfully crafty

movements, sans wriggling deeper

below topsoil in an attempt to thwart

thumping hindquarters of one

or group of rabbits.

Now tis wise those once cute bunnies

heed thy advice RUN RABBIT RUN!

Ever since firmly anchored in the earth

via number silvery tendrils as young

whipper snapper, me dad constantly

forewarned me to be on the lookout

and take every measure to avoid the

likes of Bugs Bunny, Kit Carson,

Peter Cottontail, and their motley posse

of voracious appetites for destruction.

At prime of full-blown young adulthood,

and essentially as grown prized well-rooted

stew pen dis crème of the crop nose cone

(built superbly shaft like), a promising

adulthood awaited me.

Unbeknownst to farmer Boyce Harris,

this outsize conical vegetable would

sprout into quite handsome inviting

healthy snack.

A thatch of tousled mop top red matted

hair exemplify carrot teen years.

So…hear me and listen up, ye hares who

house a harem of hungry herbivores.

Ye aint gettin to sink yaw choppers into

me crunchy grate ‘C’ pulp and chamber

that secretes savory sweet celluloid.

I yam not stew ped!

Over a goblet of fire me deathly hallowed

juice will pots sub lee only grudgingly relent.

Defense against the well red orange arts

prepare this protean plant to avoid pursuits

that whet an overly active appetite for

suffering like fate of late mister potato head.

At all costs, an orthodox upbringing instilled

herculean efforts to steer clear of radical stirring

raw bits, which subversive underground posse

frequently met short, nasty and brutish outcome.

Many accounts repeated detail brutish slave labor

that often comprise 1. faux nose as ideal abutment

to hold up bifocals for an aging frosty the snowman

or  2. never volunteer myself in role of that metes

outcome of scarecrow or strawman.

These innocent furry creatures possess two sharp

front teeth wreak havoc and rent asunder and turned

many loving defenseless Daucus carota into pet

trill like liquefied car rot.