PINEAPPLE SUNSCREEN
© Martin Pattie 2012
The farmers that grow pineapples,
- since the heat’s begun,
have been applying lotions
to protect them from the sun.
I giggled at the thought of it;
- I bet they look real cute.
And then I looked upon the bench
at my own bowl of fruit.
A peach sat on the right of it,
- an apple on the left.
My pineapple looked non-descript;
- naked, bare . . . bereft.
And so I got some zinc cream out
- now where should I begin?
Did noses, lips and rosy cheeks
and any bare fruit skin.
I did the pears and kiwi fruit,
- a punnet of blue berries,
the honeydew and rambutans
and then did all the cherries.
I got some factor 40 plus
and did the final peach.
Then being sun-smart said “Hey fruit . .
- I’ll take youse to the beach!”
So down to Archers Point and
to the beach I took the fruits,
and bought some fruity hats
and little fruity stinger-suits.
Twas picturesque and peachy,
as we soaked up rays of sun.
I said “hey how ‘bout beach cricket?”
The fruits said “That sounds fun!”
So orange batted with resolve,
until he got an edge,
and caught at second slip by
mandarin who liked to sledge.
The game went pear-shaped quickly
- brought an end to peace and calm,
when apple bowled to kiwi fruit
but bowled him under-arm.
Old kiwi fruit he cracked the shits,
- a most disgruntled batter;
with bristling hairs said “Granny Smith . .
I’ll see you on the platter!”
Emotions boiling over and
the chance of peace looked slim,
I said “Hey fruits let’s all cool off
and jump in for a swim.”
The sea was quite cathartic
- all the fruits re-energised,
and pineapple was showing off
by swimming synchronised.
And tangerine had twinkle-toes,
and danced aquatic tango.
(and just to make Dave Smith say “YUK”
I have to mention Mango
)But swimming synchronised;
the watermelon, he soon found
- without a peg . . without a nose,
he sank and quickly drowned.
Then rambutans, who swam like fish
went way out for a lark,
but lucked out when they ran into
a vegetarian shark.
And then the poor pineapple
- he needed sunscreen re-applying.
I found him face down, motionless
there in the shallows lying.
I dragged him up onto the sand,
his heart it had stopped beating,
so gave him CPR
but quickly found that self-defeating.
A crowd had gathered; someone yelled
“That’s flagrant fruit abuse!!”
To give pineapple CPR
ends in pineapple juice.
I hope you folk have learnt . .
from this tragic fruity ballad.
I have . . . I’ll save my sunscreen
and chop up a fruity salad.
