Dessert

On a golden platter, dessert is served

Not a slice of cake, not a slice of pie, not

A delicious toffee pudding in a

Royal Stafford

Bowl.

But a book.

A beautiful book with a cobalt blue cloth

Cover, and shining silver

Lettering.

Inside, maybe a tale of mystery or

Adventure.

A saga, perhaps.

Or an historical tale.

To be devoured, savored.

No carbs to add to your belly, but words to

Enhance your

Mind.

Six hundred pages of chapters, paragraphs,

Sentences, in which to delve.

Maybe the word Mumbai, whose old letters

Spell Bombay.

The latter name rightfully evicted.

Maybe a story with brilliant red poppies,

Ships and sailors at war.

It could be a tale of a little

Bird.

The word, chickadee. Her nest in an oak.

Her story in chapter three or four.

How when she was young, she fledged.

A part fairytale, a part truth.

Battles?

Weapon pen, not sword.

*

A tale like a marble cake.

Flavors swirled, words combined.

Commas added for spice. Semicolons for

Sweetness.

Scarlet, lavender, periwinkle, celedon, and

Mint. Colors generously painted in words on

Paper.

The words, pearls, peridots, onyx, obsidian.

Conjured in conundrums, quandaries, and

Quenched. Questions, answered. Crises

Cliffhangered. (Some words invented.)

*

A duology, a trilogy? Or puzzle dessert in a Baker’s

Dozen?

*

This tale must end for now. I’ve gone on too

Long.

I’ve lingered lackadaisical. My sentences have

Jogged, perhaps run on, and sprinted.

Dessert eaten, done and dusted for now.

          At a later date, more words.