(with acknowledgements to Peter Cawthorn)
In the midst of the garden
The plum tree stood.
The garden itself
On the edge of a wood.
The gardener came
At the break of day,
And a slight breeze
Caused the trees to sway.
They murmured there
And whispered low,
'What does the plum tree
Have to show?
The gardener pruned it
Back to nought;
A dreadful mess
That man has wrought.'
The gardener left,
His work well done.
The trees did sway there
In the sun.
'Our leaves!, our leaves!
Do shimmer bright
With dappled patterns
In the light!
You stand there pruned!
But what's the use?
See all the leaves
That we produce!
The plum tree stood
In silence there.
To raise his voice,
He did not dare.
And then the gardener
Did return,
And all the trees
A lesson learned,
For in his hand
There lay an axe,
'My patience you
Have sorely taxed;
For I sought fruit
Upon your limb.
Observe the plum tree,
Learn from him.
If I refrain
To prune and care
His fruit comes after
Two long years;
And when the fruit
Begins to show
I thin the most part,
(You should know)
But what would cause me
More to grieve
Is if the plum tree
Gave just leaves.'
'And now I will
Apply this blade
For I have never
Wanted shade.
You trees produce
The useless leaf;
Your actions are
Beyond belief.
Into a tree
The axe did bite.
The others quivered
In their fright.
A leaf called 'car-park'
Fluttered down.
The gardener paused
And then did frown.
A branch called 'tithing'
Then did fall,
And with it carried
Leaves and all.
The 'Gift of Tongues'
(but out of order)
Fluttered to the
Garden's border.
The 'Bible College'
Then did shatter.
But to the gardener
T'was no matter.
The gardener was
The teacher too,
So what did College
Have to do?
And so they fell there
One by one.
And by sundown,
The trees were gone.
Next year the place
Had really changed
Plum trees in rows
Stood there, arranged.
________________
HKP 26 Dec 1997