The moon's rays shine down

Talking to the tomatoes

Telling them to sleep

And slumber under her cool watch

Dreaming of hot pasta

And slender basil
The tomatoes ramble

And spill all their secrets

But the sun kidnaps the moon

Like Iraqi money

And reigns with bright light

Burning the retinas of screaming vegetables

The tomatoes awake

And cannot sleep

They then become tired

And very grouchy

Tomatoes are very loud fruit

And horrible dancers

Annoyed the okra make a plan to stop the madness

So they throw the tomatoes at the sun

Splat

The tomatoes mortally wound the sun

Blood rains down on the garden

The okra cheer

The shamed sun hides

And the night begins

The moon grows and escapes its cage

And sings its lullaby once again