I am a dish
Best served re-heated
And enjoyed
tongue-in cheek.
Fresh from the oven
I was too hot, flavours
Not yet diffused,
Meat a little underdone
And sauce unperfected.
I would have burned your lips.
Still, I provided
Nourishment for some
Who supped
And were satisfied,
Seeking from me
The choicest morsels.
But not finding them all.
So if you find me
Cold, resting in the fridge of life,
You may not be too impressed
If you lift my lid and peer inside.
But if you warm me
Taste me,
Slowly stir me,
Add back a little
Of what was taken,
I will enfold you
In the aromas of desire,
And leave you breathless
With the taste of life.
Nomad Omnia
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-a-dish/
