The Marquess of Muckle's Bananas

Apples, pears, dates and figs,
disparate adornments to branches and twigs.
Arboreal goodness, their upper reaches
teeming with kiwi, coconut and peaches.

Orange and lime make a colourful hue,
like cherry, plum and berries of blue.
And let's not forget, the sharp-tasting lemon,
or a  mouthwatering anagrammatical melon.

Fruits that are eaten in moderation
foster a fitter and healthier nation.
Excepting one man, the perennial clown,
a laughing stock in this backwater town.

He points as he screams expletive threats
(his doctor determined he's not got Tourette's).
A severe lack of hygiene, with lots of nose picking,
he thinks he's a frog, but walks like a chicken.

His ancestral home affords an affluent life,
no desire for a job, responsibility or wife.
Wears plus fours with slippers, top hats and bandanas;
The eccentric Marquess of Muckle's bananas.

By Marjorie T. Dumptruck