Plums Galore

There I stand with branches above, They’re so heavy with their fruit; Their weight now bends them, oh so low! They look so ripe and ready to pick. Plums in clumps and clusters dense, Plums now drop upon my head! Plums I squash beneath my feet; Plums I grab, plums I pick. Fruit in bags now so full – Fruit for making jam may be? Fruit for neighbours to come and pick - Fruit for making wine perhaps? Plums for the vicar, dear old man - Plums for Mrs Smudge next door…. Plums for Granny down the lane - Plums, plums, ev’rywhere plums…. Rotting plums upon the stalk, Rotting plums with maggots and grubs; Rotting plums upon the ground, Rotting plums stuck t’my shoes! Wasps are buzzing round my face, Wasps who feast on rotten fruit; Wasps galore, so drunk they are, Wasps now settle ‘pon my neck! Ouch! …….. This is a poem for a granddaughter – OK, it doesn’t rhyme – but it does have a couple of somewhat unusual features – the repeating first words for example and the ‘there’, ‘they’re’ , ‘their ‘ and the ‘they’ in the first verse. Perhaps a lesson for young people in the correct word choice (I hope I got them right!!). Enjoy!