An Ode to Petty Ranch

Mike Curtis is a friend of mine and a true Rennaisance man. Or perhaps an “Elizabethan man.” A former Naval Aviator, now the owner of Gibson Advertising, Mike whipped up this little sonnet in Shakespearean style in a shockingly brief period of time. OK… so our neighbor doesn’t have pigs, but his grasp of what we do at Petty Ranch combined with his quick wit and creativity shows why he is “the guy” when it comes to advertising for small businesses! So without further ado:

An Ode to Petty Ranch

When ‘neath my feet I hear and feel the twigs
from trees of apricots which line my ranch
the thought of pesky bugs on ev’ry branch
doth lift my eyes to spy Celestial figs
a stone’s throw from my neighbor’s squealing pigs
whose putrid stench my hedgerow doesn’t stanch
I sample up the fickle fruit and blanch
to find an ACP among the sprigs!
Oh cursed bug who hails from distant shores
and rots the Meyer lemons ‘ere they’re ripe
and keeps the avocados off the stand
but happily I’ve many in my stores
no, little bug, I’ll not believe your hype.
You’ll not move Harry’s fig from off this land!

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