The spoon lives with the fork
in the drawer & finds it hard -
sharp edges prickling
round belly & stout lips
She who ladles warm chicken soup
on cold nights
She who sugars coffee & tea
on summer days
carves patience into her bosom
as he tangles with skinny long noodles
& wrangles with cured meats &
harpoons spicy shrimps, a fisherman
always coming back
oily, teeth red rimmed but never sated
Lying beside him on the rack
varnished her silvery skin, but
she keeps on giving her neck for the kiss
her bare back arching, half moon, half sun -
The knife, a close neighbor, one day
bluntly asked her: why?
She says:
Its my nature. I am a spoon.
Aesop Fable: The scorpion and the frog
Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - Fables hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~ Have a good weekend ~
Picture credit: Noir Art by Coby Whitmore
in the drawer & finds it hard -
sharp edges prickling
round belly & stout lips
She who ladles warm chicken soup
on cold nights
She who sugars coffee & tea
on summer days
carves patience into her bosom
as he tangles with skinny long noodles
& wrangles with cured meats &
harpoons spicy shrimps, a fisherman
always coming back
oily, teeth red rimmed but never sated
Lying beside him on the rack
varnished her silvery skin, but
she keeps on giving her neck for the kiss
her bare back arching, half moon, half sun -
The knife, a close neighbor, one day
bluntly asked her: why?
She says:
Its my nature. I am a spoon.
Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - Fables hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~ Have a good weekend ~
Picture credit: Noir Art by Coby Whitmore
