Chilly morning
The ebullient kettle is eager for tea
And so am I
This slow, dry morning
The remaining leaves lap
Against the foundation
In the irritable wind
Sit with me like a deep breath
Bring a biscuit or two
And we'll catch up on news
No small talk, please,
I want to know
About your recent dreams
Look how the steam rises
And dances for us
Lifting the veil
In years we have changed little
I remember tea in your mother's dark kitchen
Drinking poetry with honey from green glass
Now we rest our elbows on the cloth
You a wrinkled raisin
Me a wrinkled cashew
As the days hitch up their skirts
For the numbing slog
Through winter's icy waters
I look for extra warmth
Burrowed in a velvet scarf
Or your hazel eyes
The sun just popped free of clouds
This could be any moment
But I'm dreaming this one, with you
Written for the word of the day, ebullient, at Poem of the Day.
And so am I
This slow, dry morning
The remaining leaves lap
Against the foundation
In the irritable wind
Sit with me like a deep breath
Bring a biscuit or two
And we'll catch up on news
No small talk, please,
I want to know
About your recent dreams
Look how the steam rises
And dances for us
Lifting the veil
In years we have changed little
I remember tea in your mother's dark kitchen
Drinking poetry with honey from green glass
Now we rest our elbows on the cloth
You a wrinkled raisin
Me a wrinkled cashew
As the days hitch up their skirts
For the numbing slog
Through winter's icy waters
I look for extra warmth
Burrowed in a velvet scarf
Or your hazel eyes
The sun just popped free of clouds
This could be any moment
But I'm dreaming this one, with you
Written for the word of the day, ebullient, at Poem of the Day.
posted by MB at 12:07 PM
7 Comments:
Two poems, two delights, today on my return from work. Thank you moose. Both reflecting a joy in life and in the natural world that is so uplifting. (But I somehow doubt that you are a wrinkled cashew? :-))
Oh, that's lovely.
I love the eager, ebullient teapot. In your world, even inanimate objects leap at the new day.
moose- this is wonderful. you slip back and forth from metaphor to real, without being contrived. smooth!
(poetry carnival 7 is underway at Glitter Lane)
There is so much life in this poem--an "ebullient" teapot, the wind, a breath, rising steam, the sun "popped free of clouds." The warm comfort is inside; the threatening wind and "numbing slog" are outside. I am intriqued about who the "other" is with the hazel eyes.
Mary, thank you. Does the cashew image seem too comical? It's intended as humorous, perhaps it goes too far for balance. I kind of like it, though.
Ken, definitely defiance of wintry weather! Winter is a-cumin in and I'm not at all sure I'm ready.
Dale, thank you for visiting. I'm glad you enjoyed this.
Patry, ay, that they may. I recall even as a small child wondering what stories stones and trees could tell if they had voices to speak.
Garnet, that's high praise. Thank you so much.
Amy, thank you for speaking to the life in the poem. That aspect is important to me, and I'm pleased you saw it. The "other" I suppose could be anyone the reader might like to slip into the poem. In my case, it's an old childhood friend.
Moose: No not too comical: it's just not how I imagine you in my mind's eye! And I am extremely fond of cashews I might add .... wrinkled or otherwise :-)
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