My Poetry. Come dine with me.

Standing by the window
tears flow from my eyes
losing you was criminal
But hardly a surprise.
I met you many years ago
you were always in my life
in every dish, I chose to cook
By me and the lady wife.
I peeled your outer shell
to feel your slippery skin
but you slipped between my fingers
Then fell into the bin!
Shredded in my Pot
your aroma filled the air
the smell was so delicious
colours light and fair.
When I attempted to eat you
horror entered my mind
I couldn’t eat this onion
the one that made me blind.

© William Sinclair Manson 2025