The Carob

I had never seen a carob before I came to Israel,

A healthy chocolate replacement is all very well,

If you are not a cocoa expert or even an amateur,

There is no likeness I’m telling you, a snobby connoisseur,

But I must admit the fruit or pod is kinda nice when seen,

Like a burnt, blackened, hardened, gigantic runner bean,

The other day whilst on my walk just around the bend,

A gardener was busy with the carob trees to tend,

What caught my eye were the neat identical very ordered piles,

Of carobs, straight, curled and flat ones and other varying styles,

It must have taken him ages like getting rid of tangles with a comb,

I was compelled to touch and take one for further examination at home,

The impression stayed in my head forcing me to act similarly in its wake,

Declaring war on the leaves in my grass, I just need to learn how to use the rake.

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