Gordon W. Belling

BANANAS

He was not quite twenty one you see
when he had his eye on that banana tree,
the young conscript who had a lot to lose.

The tree didn’t mean much to my friends and I
but that crazy fellow had to see it die.
Those pollies had taken his right to choose.

As he loudly cursed the world and crudely swore,
and went on and on about his bloody war,
he kicked and bashed at that banana palm.

The poor tree was chosen just to vent his hate
of the army who called to seal his fate,
and turned his life to fear and war and blood.

That was until one day he was heading home,
going back to freedom and the right to roam.
He went up to the tree and cried a flood.

The soldier said to the tree “I’m out of here
so you can relax as I let go my fear.
Grow up tall and may good health be yours
and you be strong and outlive these wars.”
He hugged the palm… and it snapped off in his arms.