Before the ape forsook his tree, to totter upright everywhere,
There was an age, long past and gone,
when sprouts had arms and legs and hair;
And in a world where I.Q. scores
were running at an all time low,
The clever sprout bestrode the stage, proclaiming forth with fine bon mots.
And all the creatures were agreed that if poetic words were gold,
Their friend, the sprout, would surely be the richest by a good tenfold.
In admiration sprout was held by those who heard his words declaimed;
Except, that is, for one a little jealous of sprout's
For sulking in his tree aloft, old monkey felt he should be king;
To be admired throughout the land, deferred to by all living things.
And being of a nature dark, inclined to plot and stop at nought,
Skulduggery and wicked plan would be old monkey's first resort.
It wasn't long before his friends became aware of sprout's demise,
When in a nearby bush they found his legs and arms somewhat abscised!
Old monkey, questioned 'bout sprout's fate, denied quite flatly any part,
But gave the game away when he could not control a sprouty fart.
The rest is lost to history; we do not know what ends this scene,
Or how creation coped without their witty bard with leaves of green.
And many years have passed since sprouts could walk or talk of things sublime,
Yet many monkeys still enjoy a feast of sprouts from time to time ...
Copyright © 2012 Jonathan Humble
(... if you have been affected by events in this recount, help is at hand on the Sprout Lovers Anonymous Hotline)