Poem

Some souls are made of satin,
Some souls are made of silk,
Some souls are filled with buttonholes
And some with buttermilk.

Some souls are rough as burlap
And some are sleek as fish.
Some clang like old alarm clocks,
And some are born upon a kiss.

Your soul is such a mystery,
It hides behind your grin.
I hope it’s made of marmalade,
Hot mustard and some gin.

— Author Unknown

(Unknown to me anyway, I got it from the Iowa Underground BB from the post of a guy calling himself “profo”)