Food, glorious food

 

Image: Google search

 

 

In all hues and colors,

In wide spectrum of flavors,

Arranged in gastronomic order,

People seated in patient ardor.

 

The magic was in the hands,

Of the chef, catering to demands,

The process a sight to behold,

Proof is in the eating, I am told.

 

Of flavors, a delicate interplay,

From sweet to spicy, it sways.

Seasoned in perfect accord,

Of tastes an infinite horde.

 

The  savoring is captivating,

As patrons await salivating,

As amid scene and scent oscillate,

The zesty essence dominates.

  

Meeting place

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompt courtesy: We write poems

 

 

I hardly contain my excitement,

At the prospect of an encounter,

Is there the perfect one, ever?

To take on my muse’s character.

 

Can there be the sanctuary?

The kind that can impart,

Wings to the humdrum pen  

To turn words into works of art.

 

 Is it just the unassuming chair,

And the mundane cluttered desk,

Or need it be  wistfully quixotic?

The quaint café with patch picturesque.

 

Do I really need any of these?

Or am I seeking out props?

Is it just enough to have –

My words and my thoughts?