The fruit is ripening
This poem is mildly humourous take on the type of Paedophile who likes teenagers. The not-quite-ripe bananas are a metaphor for not-quite-full-grown teenagers. For the sake of the thick-headed: It is a joke! It is not intended to condone such activity! Please read my comments on the cover page before you start complaining.
From an idea by a friend who provided the meter, the metaphor and the line: "I like my bananas slightly green".
I met in the market a buxom young maid,
A pair of ripe melons she brawly displayed.
I told her when asked if such fruit was my scene,
"I like my bananas slightly green".
She said: "But they're full and so tender to touch.
Of sweetness like this you just can't have too much".
I replied: "While fruit's ripening it's best, this I ween.
So I like my bananas slightly green".
A handsome young man at the vegetable stand,
A healthy green leek in his strong manly hand,
Was shocked when to sample I wasn't too keen,
But I like my bananas slightly green.
He said: "But it's prime, and its flavour is strong,
It wants you to eat it, it's thick and it's long,
Don't dismiss me like some dingy, out-of-work queen!"
But I walked off to seek some bananas just green.
And I found my luck turned at the secondary fete,
When offered some under-ripe fruit on a plate.
"Perfect!", I said to the charming young teen,
"I like my bananas slightly green".
Yes I've suffered from insults and beatings and more,
And over-ripe fruit from an over-ripe whore,
You may think me perverted, insane and obscene,
But I like my bananas slightly green.
Warren Mars - December, 2007