Turnip
Joel Ong (2007)
Would you marry the man and shut up
She asked.
Soft to serve
Turnip
She said her name was
Suffer to bone
House lit like candles
Burning memories
Away like chaff in the rain
Turnip
Ripe and ready
Tempting fruits close to hand
She laboured
Sweetly as
Mind body soul lay alone
In the battles
She was
Lonely
And desperate
But never ready to defend her own
Ring in hand
Future in two words
Softly served
She stood alone.
Joel 