[Sylvia Fairley]

Well, oddly enough, I have got one, but I'm afraid it was used for the Spectator comp last June (Chain reaction)

Yes, my ad in Gardeners’ Weekly, where I hint a shade obliquely -
yet with longing - for a soul-mate who’ll consent to share my life
ends my celibate existence, I’ve abandoned all resistance;
every day I dig for victory in my plot to find a wife.

Entre nous, I’ve been a ‘chips’ man, ‘other veg won’t pass my lips’ man,
now a Damascene conversion’s made me yearn to eat my greens,
so it’s calabrese and marrow from the costermonger’s barrow,
winter cabbage, sprouting broccoli with peas and runner beans.

Slicing, sautéing and grating, I can feel myself mutating,
growing leaves as I’m transformed into a vegetable state;
every pleasure life dispenses to a brassica chimensis
seems to sow the seeds of passion and the need to propagate.

Eager for an instant wedding, being raised for early bedding,
germination will be rapid and what’s more I’ll drive away
your proclivity to scurvy. If indeed you’re cute and curvy
you’ve a lifetime guarantee you’ll get your healthy five-a-day.