Jack Horner was an impish little boy, who lived on Cherry Orchard farm;
That produced varieties of fruit. For a mellowing sun, kept groves warm.

The Horners had always been a serious set-no nonsense, like spring rain;
And tried to teach their son responsibility, like time's jewels that remain.

But, alas, it was a big challenge, with hilarious grasshoppers in the hall!
Sent early to bed, he laughed long, the way you only laugh, when small.

Friends came face-to-face on fun Fridays, as February fled into summer,
When far fetched flowers were fashioned, dashing gardens in deep color.

Four o'clocks were finally abloom, when fabled family paid fulfilling visits,
Amidst fleeting, flexible colors of summer, that changed by the minutes.

Jack lived in the house of loving rules, like all seasons returning, punctual;
Or like dusky night and clashing day, knowing never to overstay, is crucial!

Sage spring delighted the senses, on their street of showy, sweet William.
So golden were red butterfly days, but fully aware the plum dusk, will come.

Naughty nightingales sang all day, when neighbors were brought by noon,
In the noticing hours of beautiful nature, like evening dark, noticing moon.

Passion flowers adored romantic stars, and coniferous 'wollemia' grew tall;
Very rare, and called a living fossil, like memory rich portraits, in the hall.

'Chinese long beans' grew up to three feet tall, as Saguaro cacti grew aged;
And 'prickly pear' bloomed so lovely, like teal sky, where rainbow is painted.

Jack's parents gave him a plum tree to nurture, so he'd get a sense of duty;
And Jack followed his parents advice carefully, hoping it would be a beauty.

Feeling important, while doing important work, Jack felt real joy and pride;
Like sun drifting from quick silver, rain clouds, with no more cause to hide.

Time's vain, idle fancy visited lives; enriching them, as it did in days of old.
Soon, three plummy years had passed, due to a yellow sun's, heart of gold.

Jack's plum tree grew tall and so beautiful, rivaling all of the stately others.
Having become thoughtful and responsible, he now realized nature's colors!

That Christmas, the family relished fruit pies, bearing fruit from Jack's tree,
On a day wrought for love and smiles, like dream becoming sacred reality.

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,
Eating his Christmas pie;
He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,
And said, “What a good boy am I!”