Slim sliver, arrested development
Silver as a slim elver slithering upriver
Bound for a rendezvous with the salmon Salar
Ballard how I protest the charge that I’m not a Child of God
In a rush, shoal don’t slow, eager to reach the nursery
Like a breached levee how quickly they uplevel
Starting tiny but by the time they stride to the desired place
They’re full-sized, fit the world to take on, and delicious to taste
Speared, held by fin, they’re lifted fit for plate; exquisite, amazing
Those who would wait light staves, turning away
To save delirious minds from prematurely sating
And ending up vomiting, out both ends like Darth Maul’s lightsaber
Rider in and on silver says he has no time to stop
Especially not in the slop of Stillorgan, thought abhorrent
Still, aver, ser would you care for a scone and tea?
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment