Tasty morsels may swim by
I’ll just duck down and check it out
Instead, a big fish I do spy
Tasty morsels.
Although this looks like a brown trout
Or maybe it is a walleye
They’re far to big I have no doubt.
I’ll take a breath and then retry
If nothing’s there, I’ll go without
I hope I find with my keen eye
Tasty morsels
Image No 3.
A sky full of lavender
showing that we are all one;
Uncommon morsels.
*** THIS WEEK ***
(“If my doctor told me I had six minutes left to live, I wouldn’t
brood. I’d type a little faster.” Isaac Asimov)
The sliced portions of this week
Collapsed, an almost eloquent fall
Into a slow-motion slide
Of morsels
Then, still unnoticed, on into
The soft blue crystals of
This week’s ending — being
Merely a measure of the journey’s recipe
For this grouping of days — thus…
I now see their floating,
Their flour-misty cloud descending
Through a sieve Life quickly set
Over time’s mixing bowl, wishing
To gather anew
A batter for next week’s
Offered cakes.
——————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 5/19/22
With thanks to God
Give the people what they want,
let them have it quickly
The pot is on the boil,
hissing steam
Desires of an improper seethe
Angry thoughts on a roil,
the patience of diligence dissipating
Hurriedly, they the cast the peppery vote
For they all savor a king:
they alova his sweet, dainty speech
A savior king made of decaying flesh,
provides a nasty tasting
An unsightly welcome
to a feast of fools
Reaching clamorously for their
salty tongue tools
Their left hand holds the fork,
the right hand grips the knife
And belly growls
silver spoon demand
for the promised porridge
to be poured out more than twice
They have a gluttonous delight
for deceitful meat
The richness of the spice
gives the poor, ballot-starved souls
a covetous appetite
They say it don’t platter matter,
‘bout the color of the meat
But it seems the flavor tone changes,
when you turn up the heat
Give the people what they want ...
let them have it, poll quickly
Ever desirous for morsels of deceit —
Put a knife to the throat,
when that elected, grin ruler speak
Morsels are my friend.
Morsels like to bend.
Morsels are yummy,
in my tummy,
but morsels have come to an end.........
DON'T EAT MORSELS NO MORE!
SHOO YOUR MORSELS OUT THE DOOR!
THROW YOUR MORSELS ON THE FLOOR!
Morsels are no longer my friend.