Chicory

The closer to the core

The bitterer it tastes

Leaves peeiling one-by-one

Between sips of wine

Sensations and salad in one

Endive in French

An enclave of bitter

In the larder of the Brit

The most part of whit

Was Indian or Chinese

And like the waitresses who served it

In salads, pickles, soup

This chicory is fresh

Is firm and young

It takes my bitterness away.