Pause for a moment and reflect
When was there something more perfect?
This ham moist, but oh so dry
As the perfectionist would decry.
Cry out how good it taste
How just a sliver (more is such a waste)
Placed on the tongue and allowed to evoke
Memories of the hickory smoke.
The sugar sweetness
And the saltiness
Merged into a waltz
Of enduring taste.
The taste buds swell with anticipation
That there would be more of this creation
Releasing a torrent of flow
To caress the ham and to show
How the nutty flavors endure
As the nostrils flare and secure
The aroma of the ham lying there
Giving up its virginal ware.
The exhaled air carries forth the vintage stores
To the senses and cries out 'More, More, More.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem