Boiling and Freezing. And Cheese.

For JusJoJan day 10, FOWC: Liquid, and also shared with the first Writers’ Pantry of the year, I have a poem that ended up being rather silly.

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How many of us are filled to the brim,
Fatigued from fate’s capricious whims?

How many feel like their blood boils,
Are disappointed, despite their toils?

A cold glass of water, with crushed ice,
Then a generous glass of wine, would be nice.

Maybe instead of only saying “Cheese,”
We can eat some with delicacies.