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Chimes Ginger Chews MAG
April 29, 2018
My tongue flaunts a fur-trimmed coat
of smoldering, ginger-scented rhinestones,
bragging and boasting
about how fashionable it chooses to be
when a Chime ventures
into the dank, cavernous throne room.
Gilded lions guard the gate,
cowering upon beholding those decadent,
syrupy, muted Chimes.
Zingy, flashy, and so trendy.
Glowing like glowworms,
they make music in my mouth
with a percussion section
of ginger gold
that spits sparks of regret.
© JiaQi B., Paradise Valley, AZ
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This poem is about a fan of the ginger candies called "Chimes". In the last line, a sensation of guilt at having eaten too many Chimes abruptly interrupts the descriptive imagery that constitutes the majority of the poem.