And the labourers of superficialities scurry unabashed
ladles at ready to churn and oars angled for murky dips
for its the seasons of stirring livened in joyless cancellation
why cuddle recipes of venom and parade witless noisy chefs
why buy bottomless pots and pans to put fire to salad and ice cream
why bring the orchestra into the kitchen from the promenade
to tug the double bass and clash the cymbals in distaste
me see no fog in the  offing nor do sane sages digress
tis not Sulemani pointing I take you for a bride
its a world of measure me for measure you
for honest truth carry honest intentions
does equality sleep with olive branches
show me the strength that owns penance
for therein lives the realness of ***** times expunge
where the labourers of superficialities are far from Stalingrad
and adorned Grecian urn will hold the pure honey from Olympia