To The Lady Ramen

Shall I compare thee to maidens fair?
With pleasing form and teeth and eyes,
With locks like fine and goldin hair,
Whose curls in which I swirl my tines.

If peas be eyes in your delicate face,
If beauty be in your smiling gaze,
Then green your eyes that roll with grace,
And filled your mouth, with kerneled maize.

With fragrance strong, of salted meat,
With steaming breath, your face turned up,
I dip to embrace, your warmth to meet,
And gently caress your pale curved cup.
And though my love seems full of quirk,
I love thee only as can a fork.

Citrus Love

Picture It.
Two glasses, one of water, one of lemonade; where two fat yellow wedges sit.

"Do you want my lemon?"
"No."
"Is there somewhere I can put mine?"

The smiling yellow wedges are placed together on a napkin.

"Awh, they look so happy together."

The lemons snuggle and continue to smile.
A third glass; another lemon. The lemons are for love. The lemons are equal. The lemons smile, snuggle.
Three fat yellow wedges, tangy citrus slices speckled with seads. Three lemon wedges smile, bumpy rind to bumpy rind.