Poem: The Tale Of A Garden
Apple did not like getting
boiled for a sauce and went to
cabbage. Boiled or fried?
Dried. It’s lenient than cooking.
Eggplant was plump and viewed
fig, who believed reincarnated as
grapes in flatland without dew.
Honey needed melon to be a fruit.
Icebergs in the garden chilled
Jack, who caught tropical spikes.
Kale suffered misspelling as Kyle.
Leeks or leaks, the orchard needed
mowing so the sun could kiss
nectarines. Their love became
orange, witnessed and spread by
papaya trees. And the boy
Quince, who loved to eat
red cabbage, resolved to
spinach with or without
tomatoes. You see this tale is
unique, made of chapters that
vividly tell there is no a
watermelon causing waterfall, or
ximenia hosting ophidian, or
yams growing arms, or
zucchini dressed in green only.
First published by Poetry in Form, on Medium.