As a young Captain I was lucky enough to serve in Belize (Central America). I spent some time working in the Jungle near the Guatemalan border. It was here that I first met a tree, known colloquially as the Bastard Tree. The following poem explains all;
The Bastard Tree - John Buchanan
The path knows to avoid me
It skirts my trunk as if to flee.
Its muddy course bending round
my fallen leaves upon the ground.
The steep slopes I enjoy the most
as better vistas they do boast.
It’s here I get a chance to play
a little game upon my prey.
My trunks a mass of needled spikes
A bit like ancient soldiers pikes
I’ll catch anyone who deigns to touch
and they won’t like it very much.
Here he comes; his feet are slipping
my unseen roots prepare to trip him.
He reaches out to stop the fall
And that is when I hear the call.
Bastard tree, Yep that’s me….
John Buchanan