Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a soft heart while life rearranges itself.” — Anon
O’, golden river, pour across my plate! To coat my silver spoon. Thick. Dark. Sweet. Longing for my please oozes from your gate. Large, heavy drops are squeezed at breakfast noon. Behold her amber light; cup’s tiny flare, She holds on tight! Refuses to let go! What Venus traps within her viscous snare? Damn slow tides mock the river’s flow. Munch. Munch. Munch. What makes mountains disappear? … Half a steamy stack, oh so fluffy light, Lick. Lick. Lick. m’lass’s end drawing near? Magic breakfast lunch-stop for my grand delight. Though sweet things doth cling to spoon and tray, My empty plate is washed and tucked away.
