eokane@charm.UUCP (Evan Kane) (08/10/84)
Song of India
I sip my wine while waiting,
The gentle embers glow,
I'm lifted, freely floating,
Content to be alone.
The dishes start arriving,
Dispensed by skillful hands,
Samosa, dosa, chutney,
Tandoori, dal and naan.
The savory aromas
Ascend and permeate
With cinammon and tamarind,
With turmeric and mace,
With coriander, cardamom
In subtle measure mingled,
In careful cunning woven
By strategies of old.
I wander lightly, deftly,
Wherever fancy wends,
Through magic realms of fable
In ancient Asian lands.
The undeciphered spices
Forever beckon on,
With slowing gait I follow,
Reluctant to be done.
My appetite betrays me,
The voyage has an end,
But even though I'm sated
The pleasure lingers on
And nourishment disperses
In slowly seeping flow
To capillary endings
In fingertips and toes.
Evan Kane 8/10/84