Because one ode to asparagus is one stalk too short.  We cherish for reasons too reckless to fathom,  which wrench us from tongue-tied to...

Too oft have I sat beneath a kind tree slavering over moments alone with thee. Sighing, I catch on the merest breeze a wondrous aroma;...

Well, of course that's merely a metaphor, or a synecdoche, since I'm bringing neither a part of the country nor nor the whole of the...