One of my earlier pieces. I hope you don't mind it.
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The trees were swaying to and fro,
Their branches bending tight.
They tried quite hard to stay upright,
But this was very odd, you know,
For there was no wind to fight.
“This life is not too exciting.”
A younger sapling said.
“I'd like to move about, instead,
Of bearing bugs, always biting,
And birds, perched upon my head.”
“You're quite daft.” Said another tree,
“You cannot move your roots.
You cannot jump or dance, dumb shute.”
But the small sapling could not see,
All he had to offer was fruit.
The Golden Melon, to be precise.
'Twas considered quite sweet.
Most humans, in fact, crave the treat.
This food, however, comes with price,
If you choose the melon to eat.
This gave him a terrible thought.
“If I could just catch one,”
He thought, “Boy, I would have some fun.
If word got out of what one sought,
The human would come at a run.”
I bet you wish to find out,
What the gold fruit might do?
It is said that while you chew,
A deep sleep will come about,
And you will snooze 'neath skies of blue.
Now it just so happened that,
A man came strolling by:
The man was named Eli.
And under the young tree was right where he sat,
Then from his lips rolled a frozen sigh.
“My youth has left me too quick.”
“I can help!” The tree did yell.
Eli did not think all was well.
Did the tree just speak? I must REALLY be sick.
But still he asked, “Please, sir, do tell!”
The tree continued to talk:
“These melons that I hold,
They can give you endless life, I am told.
Reach up here, and take one from its stalk.
Before you eat, make sure it's gold.”
Now, Eli was not too bright.
He fell for the tree's lies.
After eating the fruit, he shut his eyes,
And was soon snoring into the night.
It was then the tree's plan began to truly fly.
The young tree reached quickly down,
And grabbed at Eli's legs, careful that he might not drop,
The feet that came off with a “pop!”
Then the tree slipped away without a sound,
Oh, how soon he'd dance, skip, run, and hop!
The sapling now has legs, feet and toes.
He can do all they said he could not.
He can weave, and spin, and go to many spots.
He can twirl, and whirl, through many meadows.
And he brags to older trees about the new shoes he bought.
Now, my bad rhyme scheme is done,
And the poem is complete.
So this is the moral that I hope you will meet:
Don't eat the Golden Melon,
Or the trees will steal your feet.
Their branches bending tight.
They tried quite hard to stay upright,
But this was very odd, you know,
For there was no wind to fight.
“This life is not too exciting.”
A younger sapling said.
“I'd like to move about, instead,
Of bearing bugs, always biting,
And birds, perched upon my head.”
“You're quite daft.” Said another tree,
“You cannot move your roots.
You cannot jump or dance, dumb shute.”
But the small sapling could not see,
All he had to offer was fruit.
The Golden Melon, to be precise.
'Twas considered quite sweet.
Most humans, in fact, crave the treat.
This food, however, comes with price,
If you choose the melon to eat.
This gave him a terrible thought.
“If I could just catch one,”
He thought, “Boy, I would have some fun.
If word got out of what one sought,
The human would come at a run.”
I bet you wish to find out,
What the gold fruit might do?
It is said that while you chew,
A deep sleep will come about,
And you will snooze 'neath skies of blue.
Now it just so happened that,
A man came strolling by:
The man was named Eli.
And under the young tree was right where he sat,
Then from his lips rolled a frozen sigh.
“My youth has left me too quick.”
“I can help!” The tree did yell.
Eli did not think all was well.
Did the tree just speak? I must REALLY be sick.
But still he asked, “Please, sir, do tell!”
The tree continued to talk:
“These melons that I hold,
They can give you endless life, I am told.
Reach up here, and take one from its stalk.
Before you eat, make sure it's gold.”
Now, Eli was not too bright.
He fell for the tree's lies.
After eating the fruit, he shut his eyes,
And was soon snoring into the night.
It was then the tree's plan began to truly fly.
The young tree reached quickly down,
And grabbed at Eli's legs, careful that he might not drop,
The feet that came off with a “pop!”
Then the tree slipped away without a sound,
Oh, how soon he'd dance, skip, run, and hop!
The sapling now has legs, feet and toes.
He can do all they said he could not.
He can weave, and spin, and go to many spots.
He can twirl, and whirl, through many meadows.
And he brags to older trees about the new shoes he bought.
Now, my bad rhyme scheme is done,
And the poem is complete.
So this is the moral that I hope you will meet:
Don't eat the Golden Melon,
Or the trees will steal your feet.