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My Amuse – bouche

It’s almost time  – that time again

When I can pick and choose

A salmon steak, a cold boiled egg –

Ma bouche will be amused.

To rid my palate of that taste

That taste which I do dread

Becomes my goal, my aim, my fight

I’d prefer most anything instead –

Seven horse pills I swallow whole

And gag with every one

To keep the cancer well at bay

I’ll continue till I’m done

The acrid smell, the vile taste

Lingers on my tongue

Until

The time arrives when I can eat

And that taste becomes undone.

Rejoice in food in which flavor reigns

Each morsel  – every one

To taste of life, to sip of wine

A pleasure second to none!

 

 

 

 

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Please note that there are no new posts on High Flight – my blog is now called In the Corner.

Here is the link:  In The Corner

Thank-you for reading and perhaps following!

Sincerely,

Stacey

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