Friend For Hire
Come on, big boy, what’s it worth to you?
Never mind tease-crinkled eyes
brought about by sailing on a sharp sun
for few decades of decadence done devilishly well.
Give me a run, sailor, I so love the feel
of waves rocking, talking quietly
like womb-talk lulling legacy of love
I was made of. I will sail well, even now.
Put your arms around me, brother.
There is no weakness in this warmth.
I will be your camp-follower
while you wage your many wars.
Everyone needs a shoulder, no matter how frail
between the skirmishes. I am a great flag-bearer.
Let me feed you, off the heated hearth,
crisp-crust bread made by kneading
a whole lot of chaos away. I have churned
real butter for you in my grandmother’s
wooden cask. It is sweet, this, by the fire
as we talk of how the soul rises
through a yeasty yesterday to become fine
feast between the two of us.
I am not for sale, nor barter be won,
nor am I easily taken or given away.
I am home to many and many are my home.
There is always another dish to set
at my table of tomorrows.
I am wild and wise and nasty and nice.
My difference is; I know when to be which.
You want to solve a mystery? Come solve me.
I am water and wine, a bearer and a bringer.
I am a feast and a famine. You will treasure
my friendship like a puzzle to be solved.
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