I’m a bit more of a prose person, but I attempted some poetry-writing back in school years and I was even awarded 1st place on a neighborhood competition, with a poem about mankind.
Then yesterday, reading the rules and tips on how to write a limerick, I got all excited and decided I had to try it.
So I wrote one about my mango tree.
Not sure if I was able to keep the correct numbers of DUMs.
Maybe I have more in the last line???
And one less in the second???
Hard to tell considering English is not my native language and poetry is not something I’m too expert on…
But in the end I guess it turned out sort of ok.
Here’s my little piece or art:
I had in my garden this good’ol tree
Where I’d go when I had to flee
One day I climbed high
Attempting to hide
And had to be rescued to be free
Hope it’s at least acceptable for the more sensitive ears.
I grew up in a house where we were a family of 5 people living on it (mommy, daddy, big sis, me, little bro) + a maid, her kids, a caretaker, once a week a cleaning person, and several dogs.
And I used to share a room with my sister.
That all meant that one of the hardest things to find at home was privacy and alone time.
So my favorite spot has always been one where I could find myself alone for a few minutes. During my teenage years, it was the bathroom (and currently maybe it’s starting to be the bathroom again, although with the kids, sometimes I can’t find privacy even there… :-S )
But when I was a kid, I was a little bit more creative about finding a favorite spot.
And my favorite spot during childhood was the best. It was at the friendly branches of a big mango tree.
Unfortunately I don’t have a good picture of that tree to share, but I was able to find one, where it appears in the background so I cropped it to be able to show it to you.
There’s even a funny story about it that I recently told my daughter.
I don’t remember how old we were, but still children and, during a fraternal fight, I called my sister bad names. My mom heard it and was furious, so she headed to the kitchen to grab some very hot pepper sauce to put a drop in my month, so I would learn not to say bad words anymore.
Well… as soon as she turned her back to go to the kitchen grab the thing, I darted to the tree, since I know climbing on trees was not something my mom would do. But instead of going to the regular branches, I decided to adventure myself going to one that was a bit harder to reach. I reached it! But then I did not know how to get out.
My mom was telling me to climb down, and after a lot of shouting and crying she was finally convinced that I really didn’t know how to. She didn’t know what to do either. My brother, always dramatic, started to light candles by the tree, saying that I would never be able to climb down and was going to die up there. My mom was almost using the pepper on him for that. Haha.
Then, she called the caretaker, who was not there on that day, but lived nearby, to take me out. He climbed up, held me and brought me down.
It was such a relieve that my mom gave up the pepper.
I was a bit desperate and got really frightened up there, but at least I got what I wanted, which was not to have the pepper. LOL
Then, during adulthood, when I was already past the mid twenties, I arrived home one day to find it cut. I was so sad and so mad. How could they have cut my tree!!!??? But it turned out it was sick and about to die anyways… Oh well…
At least it did served me and my siblings as a nice place to hide, play, read, study or just be by ourselves.