My kitchen shows my personal touches
And my artistic sensibilities as well,
For this is the place where I spend
A lot of my time
Preparing, cooking, serving and washing up.
Every time I place my chopping board
On my work surface near my cooker,
A dozen red harmless ants approach
To taste the colorful vegetables
Which I am dicing, chopping,
Shredding, grating, top and tailing.
They always seduce me like the Trojan Horse,
With warmth emanating
From their inner selves,
Reflective of their souls
With the oceanic depth of their hearts.
With tranquil, vast expansive eyes,
The females move with passion
Exuberance and coquetry
And the males maintain
The decorum of being gentlemen.
With a camouflaged smile,
I look at them
And I know how guarded they are,
And how they trust people
Only when they have proven themselves
Trustworthy and loyal.
I blow a kiss with glee
When they move back
Behind my cooker,
Their quiet zone, their comfort zone.
When I go on a holiday,
I think of them
And about what they must be doing
In their world of silent love,
Beyond the intangible,
Beyond the apparent
Far from this madding crowd.
Suddenly, my ants flash to my mind,
Climbing the mount of hope
With no rope,
Like a group of white star cabin crew.
They know I will be back soon
And I can see the fireworks blazing
In a glorious moment
When the sound of my chopping board
And knife ring the bells of joy
For the rapprochement.