Sweet gentle prince of men
Grant a touch of thy finger to my tea
That thine essence pure may be transferred
Stir about it gingerly
Nay, thou shares nothing bittersweet or pseudo
As the taste plays happily and lingers on my buds and in my mind
Ne'er changing its nature
Proof in the pudding is proof in the pie
Cake or crust dost crumble
Yet thou hold solid and true
Undeniably, thou art pure to form
Thou art akin to the sweetness of cane and comb ~ Maggie 1/13/07 @ 8:35 p.m.
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