Jumping over a high wall,
Maud entered a garden small.
Trees laden with ripened mangoes;
With aroma had made a clarion call.

Creeping over dull dead leaves,
As softly as she could;
She climbed up a friendly tree;
As any samaritan would.

She ate the mangoes offered,
By the old and friendly tree;
She didn’t need to spend a nickel ,
For the tree had given them free.

Then walked in Donald Drake,
And said that he owned the tree.
It was his land and property,
Though the tree didn’t quite agree.

The tree had made its fruit,
Without any human help.
With assistance from mother earth,
It had done all its work itself.

It was happy for li’ll Maud,
Who happily ate his fruit,
Its branches danced merrily,
Though it remained mute.

The self proclaimed owner frowned,
To see the girl on the tree.
Swinging her legs from a branch,
Eating ripened fruits merrily.

“Hey there! You girl!” he yelled,
“How dare you climb my tree?
How dare you eat my fruit,
Without permission from me?”

“Sorry! Uncle Donald,
I thought they were free.
I dn’t know you made them,
I thought it belonged to the tree.”

“You silly brainless fellow!
Though the fruits are on the tree,
The amazing truth is that,
The tree belongs to me.

I  may cut or keep it.
I may do as I please.
I may sell it to another.
Or give it on a lease.”

“It’s Ok unca Donald,
But I wish that the trees.
Could speak out and convey,
Whether they do or don’t agree.’

“Out! out, of my garden Maud;
Your face I don’t wanna see.
You’ll ne’er again come to my garden.
You’re totally barred from entry.”

Maud was shown to the gate,
And after much disgrace.
Dragged herself out of the garden;
With a distraught ‘n’ demure face.

The tree fumed inside out,
At the audacity of man.
Suddenly a branch fell on Donald,
And there wasn’t any help at hand.

Without bag and baggage,
Unca Donald left the Earth .
Dust to dust was his journey
A handful of dirt is his worth.