My Dear, Ambrosia

from another time

where the food of gods

met savoury pallettes of tenuous taste

she was forever

besoughted, beseeched

anachronistic in nature

and timely only in relevance

golden hues danced upon

slender solemn satire

and her hands crossed

as if posed for prose

i laughed

her daring glance

dictated the reverence

beholden to very few

and i alone seemed to notice

based upon Wendy Walker Silverman's body of work "Aspic and Ambrosia"