I came upon a chestnut tree
as fine a tree — as fine can be —
loaded with chestnuts, large and small.
How would I get them before they fall?
Then Mr. Squirrel would have them all!
So I devised a plan
of intelligent degree
and climbed up in that chestnut tree —
and who was there to welcome me
but Mr. Squirrel — at home and free
way up in “his” chestnut tree
while I the trespasser
was not, you see —
at home, that is — up in a tree.
Now wars have been fought for many a cause,
but chestnuts? Chestnuts!!!
A thoughtful pause;
And while my diplomatic thoughts prevailed,
spiny chestnut bombs assailed
for, like a pilot in the air,
that squirrel became a bombardier
raining down chestnuts on my head.
You’d think that squirrel would wish me dead!
Knowing well I could not win,
I climbed back down to save my skin.
So now its chestnuts I despise
And let me put you to the wise:
If roasting chestnuts
in an open fire
is something that your heart desires,
of climbing chestnut trees
do not aspire.
Go pick apples — to your heart’s desire!
Lenny Hall is a student and observer of life without formal credentials who finds inspiration on Martha’s Vineyard.