Oh Banana
Who I shall call
the most curv-ed of fruits.
Why must ye be
so cruel to me.
You doth sit upon my kitchen counter,
green then yellow the brown
as time ticketh by.
Now you are green
and so I wait
to put you sliced upon a plate.
If only I could catch you
in your most perfect, ripened state.
A thousand times we have played this game
and a thousand times I have lost.
I must wonder why
I keep buying bananas.
Alas, I know that soon you will be brown
and I will have to bake you
into a bread.
ncalberts.com 