Proper Papa Papaya

 I like to say that inspiration for creative writing can come from literally anywhere.

Today, during Aleesha's and my morning walk, we passed by a small papaya tree. It didn't have any fruit on it, so we began to banter back and forth about why that might be. From that banter came the following poem.

But before you read it, you need to know that, in Thailand, papaya isn't pronounced "pah - Pai - yah". Instead, it's "pah - pah - yah". There's no emphasis on any given syllable.

With that necessary detail out of the way, here's the poem!

Proper Papa Papaya

Walking down the street and what do I see?

A fruitless fruit tree staring back at me

I said I don't see any fruit on ya

It laughed and said it's a family man tree

A peaceful proper papa papaya!

"The lady trees know me near and far

Drive any direction in a fast car

Fruit-laden ladies who will speak to ya

say I'm a fertile pollination czar

a promiscuous proper papa papaya"

I laughed and said I didn't mean to offend

He waved it off as he prepared to send

another wave of pollen gloria

He said to me that he's in the end

a prosperous promiscuous peaceful proper papa papaya!