Reflections mirroring light from the top
of melting ice cream, sitting in a bowl,
pretending to be a sundae in the night.
Failing miserably in it's plight, yet
tasting good anyway, I place it gently
into my mouth.
Exquisite tasting, even though I shouldn't
be eating any bit of it's delectable
substance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem