OF THE SENSES

OF THE SENSES Some eyes grow dim with ageAnd so with what they perceiveBelieve not, always, what you seeDeception lurks around with illusion The nose is nuptial to smellPolygamous in types and kindsNasal hairs filter, smell selectedAt times, confused with taste The tongue takes a lick with a tangBetween the bitter and the sweetA taste measured by its worthSafety sew up, in time of need Without the ear, sound is nothingIt calls the creatures to balanceBelieve not all you hear from menSome people speak in opposites Touch not, that which is extremeBetween the hot and the coldComfort zones lie in the middleAnd such is the way with life