Poesy, not my cup of tea!
Blog :rhymes and rubbish
Date: 6/20/2012 1:24:42 PM
I remember brewing a spoonful
of black, grainy dust
into a measured chalice of
water on fire.
Angry bubbles fumed at me,
almost bickering and begging
so with a dollop of milk I doused
the impatient black liquid’s ire.
The fermented scent
sprang from the pot, headed
to Him in the room inside and
stroked his fatigued senses to inquire.
The job was done, well, almost!
Just a few crystals of sucrose
sprinkled over the now brown potion,
for a cup that waited in anticipated desire.
But this was a long time ago,
when a verse would pay a visit
occasionally, at times everyday
encourage me like a live wire.
Those plucked, fragrant leaves
have dried now,
not a cup of tea, the art poesy
I reckon, that it is time to retire.