Food Myths, Written Poetically

Food Myths, Written Poetically

In verse I'll share these thoughts with you,

For topics complex, it can ring true.

Food, a subject close to heart,

A common thread that sets us apart.


Though technical terms can make us shy,

And turn us off as they pass by,

In poetry's flow, we can find,

The beauty and rhythm of the mind.


So let us speak of food and more,

Of concepts shared, from shore to shore.

From farm to table, seed to plate,

We'll explore this topic, never late.


Myths abound in health food lore,

As nutrition and diet remain folklore.

For most of us, this concept is surreal,

And how we ought to live, a fanciful deal.


So where do we begin this quest?

Let's start at the start, with our upright crest.

Though we're not instinctive with what we eat,

Save for suckling on a breast so sweet.


Our bodies designed to assimilate,

But our knowledge is what we must cultivate.

And that, my friend, is taught to us,

By those we trust, to whom we fuss.


Our anatomy, it's clear to see,

Not meant for hunting, we're not ideally.

Intelligent and crafty, we adapt with ease,

But our bodies aren't built to hunt with ease.


No sharp claws, no vision in the night,

Our sense of smell, not keen in our sight.

Compared to what's out there, we're small in size,

Hunting large animals, a dangerous enterprise.


Yet, we have an amazing adaptation feature,

Our community, our tribe, our pack creature.

Intelligent minds, we come together,

Plan and create tools, to hunt better.


A spear, a bow and arrow, a knife,

We design and craft, to improve our life.

But hunting, a perilous affair,

For many tribes, safety was rare.

Here's a poetic edit:


Our anatomy speaks, a truth so clear,

We're not made for hunting, that much is sheer.

Intelligence and craft, our greatest boon,

Adaptation, our skill, in light of this ruin.


Our bodies, not built, to conquer the wild,

No sharp claws, no vision, our senses mild.

In size, we pale, our competition fierce,

A daunting task, to hunt with such a fear.


Yet, an amazing feature, our minds' creation,

Community, our tribe, our pack formation.

In our quest to survive, we join as one,

Designing tools, our prey to stun.


A bow and arrow, a spear or a knife,

Our minds, our tool, to improve our life.

But safety, a concern, in this perilous game,

For many tribes, danger, a constant flame.


Our nature craves for fish and fowl,

To thrive and keep our bodies whole.

But to complement this primal need,

Fruits, veggies, nuts, and sprouts we must heed.


Abundant once, on this planet fair,

These treasures now require greater care.

For though they still exist in parts,

They're not as plentiful as once thou art.


So let us cherish and protect with zeal,

These gifts of earth that make us feel,

Alive and healthy, strong and free,

A true reflection of our harmony.


Where sun-kissed lands stretch far and wide,

A wealth of plants doth there reside.

With water and soil in plenty found,

All creatures gather, safe and sound.


Yet, in the frigid depths of snow,

Where food is scarce and winds doth blow,

Special creatures learn to thrive,

And keep their spark of life alive.


Thus, in each climate, we do see,

A world of life in harmony.

From tropic heat to icy cold,

Nature's secrets doth unfold.


Behold the lands where sun doth shine,

Where plants in plenty doth entwine.

Their roots dig deep in soil and stream,

And creatures bask in nature's dream.


But in the frozen tundra's hold,

Where food is scarce and tales are told,

Creatures brave the biting cold,

And keep their hearts and spirits bold.


In every clime, a balance held,

A symphony of life compelled.

From scorching heat to icy chill,

Nature's wonders doth instill.

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