In a bowl of green and gold,
Where stories of the garden are told,
Crisp leaves whisper secrets old,
Of sun and soil, so bold.

Tomatoes red like evening sky,
Carrots bright, they never lie,
Cucumbers cool, with a sigh,
All together, they unify.

Feta crumbles, white and pure,
Dressing drizzles, a flavor cure,
Each ingredient, a texture tour,
In every bite, joy is sure.

From humble roots, they rise to fame,
On our plates, they play the game,
A simple dish, yet never the same,
In salads, we find beauty’s name.