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Unfolding you dearly like laundry before a sentry asunder
One need not ponder long to wearily wonder
What may befall such ones as desire bounty’s plunder
Through thickened tides tied tight to time’s tired tithe
We bask ashore onto higher and swifter flocks
The sheep so spare
Never so less as only half a wool hair
If ever only so kind as to
Deliver a subjunctively amassed flavorful stew
Having been previously unrequested to be remixed
Even if only for a more
Fortissimo sense of salacious wanderlust
Upon first sipping, yea
“A second sip,” I quip! Or
Translating the qualia of the stew at hand over to yonder bus
There to taste afresh the sauce of my mirth
That liquid love that renewed my worth
Dipping my face so gently
Like a stew fish residently
Baptizing me anew; my rebirth
Till all at once I swam
Not until diving headlong into the deep
Through the cabbage, carrots, and celery, even unto the bottom of the bowl
Where the sediment of seasoning sleep
And bouillon remnants collect in a little knoll
This catching my eye, I failed to take notice
For just to the side of me peripherally
Lay open an opening
The shape of a lotus
I had scarcely been cognizant of the nexus next to me
Before I found myself suddenly sucked in this portal barren of border
I found myself squeezed by chaos till I slipped out of order
Was this Providence’s cold shoulder?
I would sooner spare my lord fawning praise
Than spend my years getting here older