The Laurel, the Myrtle and the Pear

The Pear laid down cut at it’s base While the Laurel and Myrtle yelled perennial jeers. “Where are you going” They cackled in haste “Stripped of your pride now your fruit isn’t here” “no longer will you shade us by you mass,” “and all of your praise will be ours at last.” The Pear replied, “the man of the orchard decided to chop and escort me to a great sculptor's shop where by his art I’ll be fashioned like Jove to reside in the temple of the secrete grove. I speak the truth, you will visit this place as your stripped and your maimed to garnish my grace.