A country tale from round these parts
Concerning potatoes none too large
Now over the hedge as he rode by
Old Dibber had a little spy

There was his neighbour, fork and all
Digging up spuds, but they were quite small.
With a cheer he blurted out
"Your spuds aren't much to shout about!"

Quick and sharp came the retort
"They're made for my mouth ba, not yours!"