Large and circular and gold - plain, no intricate design
It sits before me on the table; such contrast to silver utensils
A plate of gold - "Do not cover with anything hot!
Only cold." What a queer set of instructions
Or so I first believed
You dug down deep, you filtered and sifted
Straining your veins, sweat popping out above
Your brow - labor straight from the heart
So you said. "Cherish" the description given
As to how I should relate to this circular offering
Of course, not a burnt offering
Because it must only have cold items
Served on its dull surface - and after many
Cold meals alone with this strange element of earth
I finally understand why you offered your heart on it
Being subjected to the icy feel of that beating organ
Neither the plate, nor your heart could withstand warmth.
Some things must remain forever cold,
Even a plate of gold.
**This is a piece from the archives...to this day I still do not know where the inspiration for this came from.**