MoTHeR

MoTHeR

Mother Mother, may I eat this peach?
Might it fall betwixt my teeth
And if it’s flesh be my desire
Mother, may I light a fire?
To purify and then inquire
Might I choose to so admire.
And should I choose to bring it home
Mother, may I write a poem?
About the creature that lives inside
You know the one from which I hide
That worms its way into my mind
And leaves unnerving fears behind
About the thing that I love most
The peach, so sweet, of which I boast
For I am such a willing host.
For I am such a willing host. 
Mother, may I propose a toast?
To the peach that is my one true love
Who says he hates to rhyme
And fell from grace into my life
To nourish me in times of strife.
I ask for little, he isn’t much
This luscious peach I long to touch.
Oh, Mother, may I finally dine?
On this peach of mine, oh so divine
Who’s promised when the stars align
To give his sacred seed to me
So that I might know and learn to be
The lesson I’d most love to teach.
Oh, Mother, may I eat this peach?

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