My palate holds each morsel
Snug against my tongue where
Flavor roams a neighborhood
Of revealing sensations like
Colors blending, just so, each
Picture painted, aromatic, spiked
With herbal glee, surrounded by
One’s better judgment, better
Reasoning, as sensation follows
Heat, rekindling understanding as
Fire rages then surrenders to a
Glow of fondness for each
Delicate, rambunctious bite
Or sip so cooling, so refreshing
A fruit’s delight, its nectar
Enveloping my tongue, how
Could such pleasure breed a
Garden-grown deception
Of such is truth and wisdom
Of good and evil seed
For such a purpose one
Must gain some little
Understanding; a song, so
Sweet it moves me, and yet
So bitter is the memory it brings
A brassy repulsion as I swallow
The fear of failure
My throat constricts at such
Memories until subdued by
Sweetness at the tip again
As a child seeking solace
Against the saltiness of tears
Where are the words
They were flowing like a river
But now jammed up like
Logs, this one or that, no
I am tongue-tied. . .