Proper 13 Year Two, Friday

JOTHAM'S WARNING

The parliament of plants planned to elect
one of their rank to rule them as their king;
But who to select? They chose the Olive tree,
but it refused: "Do you really expect
me to leave my fatness, by whose oil
gods and men are honored, for anything?"
They asked the Vine if it would wear the crown;
It scoffed, "What, is it sweeter than my wine?"
They offered the throne to Oak, who preferred soil.
The Palm was much too busy offering shade.
The Rose had an appointment with a bee.
The Fig tree was engaged in growing figs.
They cursed their drought of luck: "By trowel and spade!
By spore and twig! Who will reign over us?"
Then Kudzu crept up and said, "Tell you what;
I know my brambles may not look like much,
but I'll be king." The parliament agreed.
And Kuzu grew and spread, devouring seed
and herb and flower, clambering up trunks,
and clinging like a parasite to trees;
until they wondered why they'd chosen a weed
to crown their king and meekly call their Sire.
And now, though they should die, when storms pass by,
they half-wish it would start a forest fire.