What was it you said to me,
with buttered words thick like southern cooking,
on a Saturday when clouds were floating
catamarans on a blue sky-sea?
You spoke with vigor and voracity
compelling enough to convince me well,
sentences long like snake contrails
etched by an erudite witty.
And I'll admit with naivety
my innocence of everything,
that I am a locavore of home-grown ignorance,
subsisting solely on what I'm given.
But the stories which you enliven
are the finest meals I've had,
every letter spoken, words!
Epigrams for epicures!
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Author:
Noveyre (
Offline) - Published: July 27th, 2017 13:39
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments2
Very well written...enjoyed!
Extremely well written poem, Noveyre. I especially like the last stanza. Kudos!
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