Therein goes another Gee

Over the shack up the fig tree,
Lived a man they called Sergeant Gee.
He believed never would he wilt or die,
Swearing by the angels who always stood by...

Birds for friends - purple, blue and yellow,
Weeds on him aplenty till they doth him mellow.
Cometh the hour that the figs breed,
Doth cometh the men, paying heed.

They called him the man who had it all..
Sang paeans and did he bask..
Came to him from far and wide...
Singing eulogies ...they would rant...
"dear oh gee, how blessed art thee..."

Gee grinned with pride through all the seasons,
Of biting cold and scorching sun,
For figs, his tree always bore,
With all their sweetness undone...

Years went by and Gee lost his pun...
Along cometh another season...
Cometh the biting cold, the scorching sun...
Cometh the men who said it all...
But it was the year cometh the fall..

They loved him, had said they,
Deceit ridden inside their spleen.
But soonest had come the day he lost his sheen...
In its elements, the world was all wry and mean..

The truth was out for now they swore,
Bitter than the rawest fig his tree ever bore..

Away went the birds, the weeds and the men,
Away went the angels, his good omen...
Gee cussed havens for he didn't know his crime,
Only the gods laughed to themselves and said,
"Therein goes the inglorious Sergeant Gee...
doesn't know hes past his prime..."