A pine cone stood proudly on my desk

Admired at day time and held at dusk

And sworn to God to never gather dust


A tree with odorless spiky leaf blades

And savorless stone-like fruit parades

A stream of ugliness that cascades


Humans we are, we may be, we are free

But it isn't the same thing that we all see

In this unfair world, it's toilsome to just be


I see an earthy design, a wooden masterpiece

Mangled with clouds, a sight that brings peace

When all they can find is pure dirt and grease


For pine cones were never subfusc and mundane

They smell of soil so heavenly we think it's ethane

They taste of honey too holy for us it becomes plain


That's how special things were always treated

So if one day, with a pine cone you were greeted

Ensure that person next to you is forever seated