Food For Thought

Food For Thought

Her words are as a morsel
each visit a real good taste
and not even a little crumb
will I allow to go to waste.

Each breath, much too precious,
to let wander out in space.
I receive each golden tidbit
as it radiates from her face.

I want even the tiniest of a word
that she blossoms o'er my way.
That's why I listen so closely
drinking up words I hear her say.

You see, she satisfies my thirst
and quenches my need for drink.
If ever I think I am hungry
I get filled up to the brink.

Not even a tiny speck
of her nourishment is for naught.
I inhale and feast upon her.
She is my food for thought.