When did my compassion turn to varnish,
my modest mettle slowly start to tarnish?
I must search inside to ascertain my center
where moderation manifests as mentor;
serenity’s insidious asylum
can turn malign, corrupting healthy xylem
but was it Sheryl Crow or was it Buddha
that said – don’t long for Swiss if you’ve got Gouda.
Are You Reading Me?
2 comments:
hey now - love the one your with.
clever poem AP.
Thanks Shauna, I must have had cheese on my brain yesterday because after I wrote this I made cheesy broccoli soup and a homemade cheesecake :^)
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