A poem by Beverly Stock.
© Dennis Cox | Dreamstime.com
*(Guapo >adj., good-looking, handsome, similar to Don Juan)
Here is the tale of El Guapo,
The Lone Avocado Bandito.
He'd give his life for the flowering tree,
Or food made by his Momma Guapo, you see!
Our hero has an IQ a' plenty,
And guards Avocado orchards so many
It's the Persea Americana(1),
Ah, that buttery taste, now so trendy!
He's vigilant and coy,
With one minor exception.
Instead of bullets in his weapons,
He shoots cork projections.
No bullets need he.
To stop mischief in trees.
El Guapo does not wear a mask,
Recipes line the pockets of his pants.
El Guapo likes Avocado meat,
That very buttery treat.
Worried about good and bad fat?
The avocado is the former, in fact.
El Guapo was struck
By an idea "importa,"
He made a long list
Starting with"Avocado Torta."
So excited, his mind started to race.
He had to write faster.
How about an Avocado and Ahi bowl? Followed by Avocado-Pesto Pasta?
He could hear it sung like a ballad,
An 🎵Avocado-Jicama-Orange Salad.
Or Avocado Wonton Soup
Served warm to the men in his troop.
Ideas flowed as he wrote:
“Muffins, and Avocado Egg Scrambles,
Avocado Ceviche, & Salsa,
A Note: Pass some samples!“
Last but not least, he checked the pies,
The bread, and indeed the soups.
The Avocados depended on El Guapo
As did the Avocado picking troops.
Finally, he rode off in the sunset.
He looked back and yelled that night,
"My hombres always use Avocados….
And enjoy Guacamole tonight!" (1) The avocado tree