‘Twas a fine day,
Until she said,
“Let’s go to the bazaar!”
Never was intrigued, never was ecstatic,
Yet stepped a foot I had not,
At the busy bazaar this month, perhaps not.
Thus the ninth day into the month,
My feet dragged into the street,
Canopy flared, people were buzzing,
To buy one of their, most fine dining.
Nothing too savory, nothing too succulent,
Passing the merchants, with remote silence,
End of the trail, my brain began to contemplate,
Of what to buy, and what to eat.
Processing the memory, of various delicacies,
I finally decided, to buy some of these,
Nasi ambang, popia basah,
Roti John, air tebu,
Perhaps ayam percik, but then said a voice,
Ate that already, ayam madu is a better choice.
A little confession, if you don't mind to see,
I loathe to eat, and I eat to live,
Never excites me, the scent of food,
So what did I eat, I never really know.
Yet when the seller, scooped on some rice,
Preparing my dish, for me to buy,
I was distracted, terribly agitated,
For the fragrant of rice, smelled like paradise.
If there is a food, that I deeply enjoy,
It would be rice, plainly remarkable, simply superb,
White and creamy, milky yet thin,
That is rice, the sole food that I adore.
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