DINNER AT THE FARM

What's for dinner, Mom, today?" The children had arrived,
From plates like painter's palette forms, They counted rounds to five.
Their tummy's counters waited too, For refills for their store,
Raw foods and proteins - no trans-fats, As enzymes called for more.

The salad - green, Mom had foreseen, Would fill their enzyme needs,
And throw in free that Vita C, That always did good deeds.
"She's washed them too, from residue." A grateful system cried.
"The eggs are boiled, potatoes baked, Hurrah, there's nothing fried."

Past years, it seemed that quality, Had often been ignored,
What mattered only was the taste, Folks otherwise felt bored.
And never thought to note the tones, Of anguish felt within,
When foods that held preservatives, Came down to fill each whim.

The sugar coated canon balls, Could ruin Units B,
And armies of more additives, Slaughtered A and E.
And carbonated beverages, Just like the Trojan horse,
Held hidden soda savages, That wiped out more of course.

A regular Kamikaze band, Was organized for flight,
Then healing cells must build recruits, To mend them overnight.
Past battles fought could tell a lot, Like one called DDT,
Where good cells suffered pain and loss, At cancer's firm decree.

But scientific research done, And mother's probing too,
Showed caution coming up the track, To win a grand review.
And time with understanding showed, Each person played a role,
With doctors, mothers, teachers too, All helping reach the goal.

Of loving care for these least ones, The humble body cell,
With nature's food with rest and care, Would cast a lovely spell.
Within its orb to emanate, In waves of silent sound,
In rhythmic ribbons of healing love, Spread joy and health around.