Author Wilfrid Wilson Gibson My plum! the boy said, as he bit The cheek of it. My plum! the wasp said, as it stung His boasting tongue. And now, the boy and wasp both dead, From the dropt stone upsprung, Another tree waves overhead. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments