The Pecan Man

Residing in an exquisite looking porcelain bowl

Atop a rare antique table

Surrounded by the only friends he’d ever known

Collectively they’d shared laughs and many a delicious fable

A sophisticated appearance

He wore only tailored made plastic

Articulate in speech, a real treat to have a laugh with

He’s the Pecan Man

A honey flavored salt water taffy

Sun bathing in a sea of other assorted candies

Most of which were of a much lighter complexion

Always the more preferred selection

Hence this bowl being the only home he’d ever known

They insisted he was an acquired taste

But truth be known his rage he could have shown  

He stayed composed as he remained in place

These were the same voices that crowned him “Pecan”

The playful ones that singled him for his coat being tan

A flavorful zest for life

The sweetest disposition

Seemingly well liked but there words provoked suspicion

And so the time passed and like minty leaves of three

New friends would come as the old ones would leave

Like clockwork that infectious smile there’d always be

Almost daily he’d see the many hands select everyone but he

It wasn’t the clothes that would have him the same

Or all of the wisdom that he would gain

His inevitable reality was all he would claim

Pecan was his name and taffy he’d remain

Copyright©2013 by Daryl R. Gaines. All rights reserved