Flopped in a fern-filled, fertile garden nook,
Sipping soft drinks Eve read her mystery book.
Then, nibbling on a pear that dribbled on
Her birthday suit, Eve found her patience gone.
She thought why can’t the All In All provide
A decent fruit that won’t drip on my side
And stomach, gluing all the pages of
My book together, while, in clouds above,
He goes about his Lordly Business and
I’m left with sticky toes and ants and sand.
"Adam, help—stop slurping on your Snapple!
I would like a nice, crisp, juiceless apple!"
Adam ignored her question and complaint—
A decent husband, he was not a saint.
Only thought he’d found the perfect woman,
Which went to prove that he was the first human.
The Reptile, hearing them discussing this,
Slithering over, gave a little hiss,
Said “Honey, here’s an apple, don’t you cry;
You’ll know the reason for it by and by.”
And once Eve bit, she knew. A Voice above
Said “Get dressed!”, gave the two of them a shove.
The Reptile smiled and shrugged, then took a shake,
Thought to himself “The first human mistake.”