Potato fields in endless view,
Rows and rows of starchy hue,
Their skins so earthy and brown,
A feast for eyes, a delight to be found.

Each spud so unique and diverse,
From fingerlings to big, rotund curves,
In fields or in the grocery aisle,
Nature's bounty, a feast for a while.

Oh, how they grow and thrive,
Their beauty truly comes alive,
And when the day is done,
We'll dream of them, beneath the setting sun.

Amidst the greenery they rise,
Potatoes humble, yet quite wise,
Their nourishment fills our bellies,
A staple food, quite grand and mighty.
spam fails_task lang_mismatch pii not_appropriate hate_speech sexual_content quality toxicity humor helpfulness creativity violence