There once was a tomato in my garden,
An heirloom seedling gifted to me by the daughter of a game warden.
The seedling named Mortgage Lifter, it was said, never fails to inspire.
I waited gleefully for ripe fruit to transpire.
The day finally dawned.
A perfectly ripe, red fruit had spawned.
The tomato was plucked
Into the kitchen it was trucked
A dinner salad was implored.
Mortgage Lifter is patiently awaiting its fate on the cutting board.
A tomato knife was wielded.
A perfect red slice yielded.
The salad constructed, our forks and hearts were lifted.
Yet the mortgage was not shifted.