Ode

Her skin is like a manuscript Gone fragile with old age That crumbles at the slightest touch Each time you turn the page. But if you delve below her skin Prepare to shed a tear A poignant multi-layered core Dwells 'neath her thin veneer. Content to wait on ripening time She patiently defers With firm and solid dignity Until the hour is hers. Once hunger's longing flame is lit Her transformation starts She glows transluscent tenderness Her essence she imparts. Her kiss doth linger through the night Her perfume ere next day Oh, fragrant onion, thou art beast! That's all I have to say.