Poem Highlight: “Pickles Grow on Trees”

Today I decided to share one of my poems with you – it’s an inspirational poem to those who cannot manage to think outside the box, and are left to sort out reality as it is in real life.

 

This is not the way to think about reality. Reality does not come from the real world. Reality comes in little packages of bread dough.

Pickles Grow on Trees


“Pickles Grow on Trees”

by Michael Metzler Jr.

You’ve heard it said a lot before

I hope you have, at least:

That onions are the worst for growth

And bread tastes bad with yeast.

But challenge, I, that train of thought

Before your mind starts turning round;

For clovers grow with olive oil,

And nutmeg hates the ground.

Most important, most of all,

Just listen, would you please?

Money grows from maple bushes

And pickles grow on trees.

And if you think, as may you do,

That plants grow from the sun,

Rethink, then, sir, the mustard seed,

That weighs roughly a ton:

The mustard seed, the little fiend,

Defied the sun since birth,

Relied on night so that he’d grow

To hasten quickened girth.

Consider well the orange tree,

When from the ground he’d sprung;

Asked the moon, that little bloke:

Can I stay ever young?

The moon, it changes tides and whales,

And last, before daybreak,

Calls all plants upward from the ground,

And cries: “All plants, awake!”

Do plants listen? Of course they do.

More or less, as you should,

But from the tortoise blossom grows

Of things that are not wood.

Yes, onions are the worst for hives,

And corn soaks well in teas.

From bushes come all kettle corn,

And pickles grow on trees.


Thanks for reading, and be sure to read our blog, and follow for weekly posts!

-Michael Metzler Jr.

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