Sponge

I am a sponge
Drinking in not so little gulps
Liquids of varying viscosities.

Last Summer I was drenched in wine
Intoxicated, I lost myself
Swaying to the rhythm my drink played.

At Fall, tea found me
Seeping through my little pores
I began to mimic its’ blandness.

Winter came and it was hot cocoa
Brown mess soiling my colour
But what could I do?

I am a sponge
I am made to soak in
What manner of liquid would you lay on me?

With Eyes Wide Open

Love found me,

I fell in.

Saphir Fell For His Pretty Tools

He had a modus operandi:
“Dig, until you hit gold and gold alone”
Clad with pretty tools he plundered
Every virgin land he conquered
Zebub – the gold digger
Uncovering another man’s treasure

Saphir
Kept for the day of her showing
Comely on the inside as on the outside
Daily she grew in beauty, not without pride
For she knew she was a worthy mine
Of inestimable jewels

A miner mines
Gold is unearthed
A thief steals
Never impeded by seals
“Dig, until you hit gold and gold alone”
Zebub will come for Saphir