A/N: I wrote this series of poems about herbs and spices a little while ago and never uploaded them. So here they are. Thank you and let me know what you think!

Ginger is a coin with three faces.

Something that is deemed strange

By many yet fantastical by others.

You rip it out of the ground,

Pull off the bottom,

And you flip it into the air

Will it land on its sweet side,

For cookies and ales and cakes?

Or perhaps something dryer,

For beers and breads and fish?

Or maybe the third face,

Something filled with opportunity

It falls into your open palm

You slap it on the back of your hand,

And observe.