When the pale Luna, goddess of the night,
Her silver blanket did upon the pond cast,
While gliding along the inky sky,
Near to the milky stretch-mark of stars
(Sign that the Universe is our mother)...
The air was thick with the violin symphony of crickets.

Beneath the knotted hair of a willow tree 
A campfire, asked to dance by the breeze,
With sheer joy crackled and sparkled 
At the sight of the petal-faced imps. 

In a foolish manner, one prodded the other:
"Go you and kiss a frog on the nodding!"
Wanting to impress his comrade,
He sprung up like a grasshopper off the ground,
And like a fox pup disguised himself in the reeds.

There, his torch revealed two sinister gleams,
A low CROAK and RIBBIT RIBBIT came with them.
The boy jumped and caught the wet ball of slime,
It protested in his cherub hands and wriggled in vain.

He moved his puckers closer to the little being,
Nature is the one who likes a good teasing,
He kissed it on head,
Then froze with dread,
The frog was a toad and the taste was displeasing.

If my life were a recipe
I feel like every ingredient would be followed
by the word "optional".

8 hours of sleep (optional)
Two to three meals a day (optional)
1 social life (optional)
1 job (optional)
A handful of friends (optional)
A pinch of creativity (optional)
One cup of laughter (optional)
Three heaped tablespoons of positivity (optional)

You get the idea.

But you're different.
You're the one ingredient I can't do without.
You're the one thing that matters
when I can't be bothered with the rest of it.
When all the chopping and sautéing and boiling
and grilling of everyday life
seems like too much hassle,
there's always enough time for you.
You're my quick-fix meal on a weekday evening.
You're a mid-morning snack
snatched between errands.
A quiet evening in on a Saturday
with a bottle of wine and Joni Mitchell playing
"I could drink a case of you".
I could cook you every night.
You're comfort food at its finest
unpretentious, convenient.
Never bland and never tiresome.
You're the one ingredient I'll always have in stock,
that one I'll never let myself run out of.
Because you cannot be substituted.
You, and only you, are not optional.

****** One

I carried your being on my back,
Had knees like jellies under your weight,
But I kept going despite the pain.

You strangled me with your legs
When the ride got a little bumpy
Because you didn't want to fall off,
Unaware of your own strength to walk.

Your weight got me drowning;
Your weight had me short of breath;
It made me lose focus on what's ahead
Because I had to measure every step
And you kicked your heels into my ribs
Despite my biggest, sincerest efforts.

I was happy to have my feet moving
And my shoulders bending
Just in the name of you.
But you were a ****** one
And left me behind
Like ship wreckage after a storm.
You left me bruised,
Purple, ripe only for the  dead.
The arrow is stilled in my chest,
Scratching my heart but not piercing it,
While you hop onto a different throne
And make a different shoulder your home.

It was a dark night, rain slashing through it,
Trying to cut the windowpane,
When your demons escaped from the cage.
They tied you up and burned you on a stake.
The fire licked you up and devoured you,
They thought they have destroyed you at last.
But your soul is a phoenix,
and it sprung back up from the ash.