Ode to My Knife

O Knife
In whose smooth grey strength I trust my life
Do you weep like I when dicing onions fine?
Does your steely tang ache with sharp love divine?

O Blade
From Earth reclaimed and forged as mountains made
Are there mushrooms here or yet to be
That rise up and defy your cuttability?

O Steel
In whose smooth grip a certain warmth I feel
When dreams do come and shadows shroud my food
You smite them right and left, like, awesome, dude

O Knife
If only I could keep you from my scheming wife
The dishwasher that yawns with all its evil hate
Will never all your skills and pristine edge abate.