This is pretty well carried off, and I love potatoes more than anything. I have been lately wondering if it's true that we can live off just potatoes and butter, 'cause I would do that. Why is starch bad for us according to diet people? I don't even know. Potatoes! Must make some mashed ones very soon~ Do you like sweet potatoes, too?
I loved your reference to the potato flower, 'cause it brings the poem into a very concrete and hands-on knowledge. Potatoes in the grocery store don't have flowers, but people who know potatoes and study them, like the cute little boy I tutor who has let his sweet potato flower into beautiful purple, know potatoes are more than just what they are in the grocery store. So that was a good move.
But! There's one point where I think you kinda just threw it in and didn't think so carefully about it as the other moments of the poem. Here:
Although you live down below,
I would not have you fret.
The point of this is just, "yo, potato, you grow underground", where the other mentions of physical characteristics are charged with some emotion or personality. The stars and eyes talk about growing, which lends well to the idea of love, of fluctuation. The flower observes the love that hasn't been hurt by anything at all, yet. The lovers have yet to have their first fight. Then the scars are so woven into the narrative of dining that we don't even think about them. But this? The undergroundness? No movement, no connection to love. You attempt it, by saying, "don't fret silly potato", so you want to sound loving, but why would the potato be fretting in the first place if it has always lived down below. Don't you accept that anyway? Why is it worth mentioning? This is your weak point. Can you find a way to fix it?
POTATO LOVE FOREVER.
PM me if you have questions.
Good luck and keep writing~
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