In Which My Harvest Incurs Merriment

A bifurcation 'twixt us has been found:

As we traversed the traffic islands, I

Did something that elicited a sound

From Paul I'd call a gasp of shock, caused by

My plucking from a tree some traffic fruit --

A mere crabapple, which I ate. I smiled --

I love them so, and it was fresh, to boot!

'Twas yesterday that happened. Now, beguiled

By this so-shocking tale, my Pete and Paul

Amuse themselves exchanging recipes

(Or concepts therefor); and that book we'd call

A Traffic Fruit Compendium. With ease

Comes traffic jam and traffic fruit tarts, and

We'd better stop; it's getting out of hand.

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