by Vivian Wing Yan So
Monday, October 21, 2002
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(c) Mar 13, 2002
When you first admitted to my sight,
I did not take notes of anything but brown
little spots on your face.
As I wash your skin, I wonder
what a good dish you may be,
as muds slowly slide away.
Now I get a better view of your visage,
I gently peel off your skin.
Slightly press against your softly texture,
Now I know your heart.
Now I taste a bite of my soup,
what a wonderful dish I've made!
How beautiful is your love, your heart
that I'll always remember!
"Appearence isn't realiable!" says Eliza
Poetry by Vivian So (pen Eliza Simmons)
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|Reviewed by Ted Sheridan (Reader)
|I have a thing about them too. Speak French to me.|
|Reviewed by na na (Reader)
|Work to reveal your morsel and then the celebration, revelling in its sense as your lips and tongue taste pure delight. Bill|
|Reviewed by Vicky Jeter
|Ah, but the value of investing appropriate
time to pay homage to that which continues
our cycle of life-- this is excellent!
May I remember. Vicky