I’ll have a P, Bob.
Peas in the pod, peas on a knife,
Peas in a pyramid, a pea is for life.
Mushy ones, snow peas, sugar snap and marrowfat.
Sticky ones, spinning ones and ones definitely stuck on a placemat.
Pea soup or Swedish ärtsoppa and Victorian days in a fog.
Split peas, pea milk, tender pea sprouts and ones from the garden,
Some are very soft and sweet and some are left to harden.
Dry peas, shelled peas, grown for seven thousand years,
Balance on the knife? Push onto the fork? Correct consuming causes tears.
In a pan, in the microwave, or bubbling on the hob.
We love them all. We eat them all. I’ll have a P, Bob.