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.
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