A Satan she that named coinage be.
What mess, what poison shall we smell and see?
Durst we to kitchen venture: food to seek?
Dost we know her presence from the foul reek?
Sight of filled sink confirms suspicion,
Descends us to anxious dereliction.
Aroma singes eyebrows with onion’s smell,
In our cooking’s realm to turn it to Hell.
Haha, this was such an enjoyable read! ❤
Looking forward to reading more from you!
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Thank you! Feel free to have a look through my poems. There are plenty to read. 🙂 Enjoy!
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I definitely will…
You’re welcome! ❤
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