THE TALE of TWO FIGS

The day was winding down,

   At the magic sunset hour,

Beneath the reddening sky,

Aimlessly wondering, daydreaming.

Frankenrabbit all nestled in the grass,

Nervous, alert, one, two, three – run

‘tween sweaty legs and stinky shoes.

To safety – cool dark shadows under the deck!

Cooling gentle breeze, waning light.

Caney pauses to check his drawers!

Low filtered sunset light

Streaming through the neighborly trees

Caney’s eyes follows the golden beam.

There to the left,

With head turned,

A bright glint of purple.

There it was!

Spotlighted by God’s  glorious beacon,

Glowing with heavenly luminescence,

Set amid the dark leafy background.

One half of her form    

obscured in the leafy embrace, 

the other half perfection indeed!

Viewing through fig-starved eyes,

With the hoot of an owl from the trees beyond,

As the cool wind gently blows,

Caney, gently, tenderly gazes

Upon her rapturous beauty.

Languishing,

Cherishing the siren’s filmy negligee of violet bloom. 

And the thunder growls.

Wait!

Thunder not – stomach growling, yes!

Timidly, shyly, he approaches closer.

A little to the right, color and movement.

Another siren!

Yet not as alluring,

Damaged, unappealing, unattractive.

Yet,

Still a fascination, captivating, bewitching.

Birds partaken but vanished.

Ants having an overindulgent repast.

No matter, I’ll not waste!

With loving gentle fingers,

Both are plucked.

Ants blown off.

Delicate in hand.

Eyes adjust to the bright kitchen light.

Glinty gleem of sharpened steel!

Damage is cut away.

There lays two beauties!

To many ONLY Brown Turkey,

But to a newb

A treasure indeed!

But now the DECISION!

Only two figs.

Only two people in the house -

Caney and Wife.

Who gets which one?

Am I selfish and eat the unblemished?

Or

Does the Wife get the good one and I get the one with ants?

Fabio is got nothing on you.

You go with it Lover Boy.

Nicely put caney but you have no choice, you each get one half of each fig or you could play the part of the amorous lover and give her the whole fig.
"gene"

good thing my wife doesn't care too much for fig. when i was a kid i used to eat ants for fun. they usually have tart flavor. they were much bigger than those..

pete

The bitter/tart flavor comes from the formic acid they inject into you when they bite ;)  Formic acid is acutally named after the ants, the genus 'formica'.  You should try to bite into a big wood and - the large ones.  I had one on my Coke one day and I took a big swig without seeing it, bit into it and whew.  It could have held its own against sour candies.

So I shouldn't try to eat my countertop then?

That's "for my ca", ants are "for mick uh". 

I wouldn't recommend eating your countertop, the wife might get pissed off and leave you with a really sour taste in your mouth ;)

I knew failing English would come back to haunt me.

So which one did you eat?

I'm guessing you ate the half damaged ant infested one and gave the good one to your wife with the full knowledge that more are coming...

I am painfully aware as to how and by whom my bread is buttered.

I ate the damaged one and left the good one for my bride.

Good move!!!