Tweezing Of A Palm Tree Poem by David N. Munene

I brag with my leaves
And prick with their edges
When winds blow I whiz
Like bee and fly buzz
Play in the winds with my wings
Till mad man comes to my braids tweeze
When I embellished houses for kings

They call it religion
I call it a legion
For their faith is a dungeon
I wait upon the season
When they will prune me without reason
Just to wave and dump my leaves
Poor sons and daughters of mine
Whenever man believes
He leaves me without shine
Leaves my entirety bereaves

When in comes lent
I know it is about to expire
That which Earth charged as rent
Their Faith pushes me to retire
Just to signify a triumphant entry
Into Jerusalem, now a pantry
They tweeze and tweeze
They squeeze and squeeze
They hear me not when I Scream
Do they not know I have a dream?

Next Palm Sunday will find
My height being left behind
By blue gums with glide mind
But mine shall protrude
And man will intrude
The religious man so rude
Will for my life not interlude
Instead will try to my leaves tweeze