what i’m made

you run from me, but i’ll
chase you to no tower or
loose myself in a maze…
i’m not made that way;
i won’t cross oceans,
sail through the Gibraltar
to rendezvous… no, i
cannot swim for my life,
but if you were taken ill
and needed company, i might
just bring you a bag of
tangerines to peel at your
side, heat you a bowl of
chicken soup to comfort you,
read you to sleep if i have
to… for this is what i’m made


About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: