I watch the glass windows-
Streaking snowflakes,
relentless
As overflowing river, bursting
white rage
A cup warms my hands
Every day I pour
myself into its mouth
Tulip-shaped, familiar
lips, predictable as a
Spoon spinning to
swirl the cream,
Its aroma rises like a
tongue, fickle as a season-
Laving my skin, chilled cold
By ever-changing wind, this cup
Waits, stretching narrower & smaller
As if wanting to swallow me-
I linger on its precipice-
Thinking of leaves-
Thinking of spring-
and you-
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Negative Capability
Picture credit: Artist Rosie Hardy
pouring myself into its mouth...that's a wonderful image..also love the cup stretching narrower & smaller as if wanting to swallow...and very cool pic as well...yearning for spring...
ReplyDeleteIt is blowing winter and cold wind here ~ Yes, yearning for spring ~
DeleteThank you Claudia ~
Such a beautiful poem! I'm waiting for spring as well. It was in the 30s this morning and snowed a bit! BTW, I also love Rosie Hardy's photos-very inspring.
ReplyDeleteMe too LM, her works are very inspiring ~ I think I have a collection based on her work ~ Thank you ~
DeleteOh, I feel the yearning here--and identify completely. Watching snow fall right now, outside my window.
ReplyDeleteSame scene here, Susan ~ Thanks ~
Deletethis was so real for many... loved the image of the cup and the time you take with it to show us how life can linger
ReplyDeleteThank you ~
DeleteBeautiful, really appreciate the vivid descriptions here, absolutely lovely Heaven, I want Spring to come and take our lives over now!
ReplyDeleteSame thoughts here, Matthew, thanks ~
DeleteYou create a beautiful flow of imagery and longing here. The central metaphor is compelling. Thanks so much for linking today.
ReplyDeleteThank you for wonderful prompt Anna ~
DeleteA little spring a cup can bring.
ReplyDeleteYes, it makes a difference ~ Thanks ~
Deletewow...some killer lines in this grace... Its aroma rises like a tongue, fickle as a season-
ReplyDeleteLaving my skin...whew...and the pouring yourself into it each day...oh yes, please come on spring and warm my bones...smiles.
Wonderful playful emotional POV here, morphing from cup to soul to swirling cream. Yes Spring has arrived, but so far only the trumpets announce it. It lingers somewhere out of sight, over the frigid horizon, gathering its blossoms, girding its roots, opening its loving arms.
ReplyDeleteI am still looking for it Glenn ~ Thanks for the visit ~
DeleteThinking of it too, after getting dumped on by snow at my zoo, maybe your verse will hurry it along.
ReplyDeleteMore snow to come, yikes ~ Thanks Pat ~
Deleteah, a morning cup of sorrow and yearning....
ReplyDeleteIf only, thanks for the visit Dezzy ~
DeleteOh I have a favourite cup for my cuppa in the morning although I wait for autumn, just that cool freshness instead we still have icky humidity. Even so I still have my cup of tea morning and night. Loved this stanza
ReplyDeleteA cup warms my hands
Every day I pour myself into its mouth
Tulip-shaped, familiar lips, predictable as a
so nice to have a familiar lips to drink from. :)
Incredibly sensuous, and time stopping somehow. Well done!
ReplyDeleteTerrifically sensual Grace - Keats would have been proud of you - 'beaded bubbles winking at the brim...'
ReplyDeleteSimply beautiful.
ReplyDeleteOh, so lovely and delicate. I especially like the 2nd and 3rd stanzas.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! A moving piece!
ReplyDeleteLove the warmth in your words here. It's so cold and its supposed to be Spring.
ReplyDeleteoh grace. this is a cup of wonderfulness!
ReplyDeleteI always love your sense-ual filled imagery. This is now exception. Yummy.
ReplyDeleteThe reversal is a very appealing way to keep warm (pouring into the cup).
ReplyDeleteDelightful poem, with whose sentiments all would agree just now, I think.
ReplyDeleteI wish the warmth in the cup would spread to the outside! As always, thank you!
ReplyDeleteA wonderful sensory write Grace. We have bitterly cold winds and more snow forecast too - hard to believe it'll be Good Friday next week.
ReplyDeleteSeems like waiting for a guy who is separated from her for some reasons. Hope her wishes and desires will become a reality.
ReplyDeleteYou have captured the both/and in the cup of tea--familiar, predictable and fickle,changing with the seasons. The cup is the warmer and comforter and then threatens to swallow the narrator along with the storm raging. My! The only stillness here is in the thinking, the leaves, spring, you. So beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI also like 'pouring myself into its mouth'...this seemed to come easily to you...lovely thoughts and we can all relate as we hold our warm cups each chilly morning.
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ReplyDeleteBlazing vivacity in gentle voices! BEAUTIFUL !
ReplyDeleteIntriguing poem and intriging illustration.
ReplyDeleteLove the thought of pouring yourself into its mouth - lovely stuff!
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Such a soothing poem. Thanks so much for sharing this! ~Jason
ReplyDeleteI especially love the last few lines.
ReplyDeleteif winter comes can spring be far behind..ur lovely lines are springing with life & vigour rejuvenating the spirits..GOD<3U
ReplyDeleteBeautiful work here, Grace.
ReplyDeletean interesting verse—quite captivating; I, myself, long to indulge in the warmth of spring or to be enveloped by it—either works as long as my toes are free and warm.
ReplyDeleteSo many beautiful images, I'd have to recite the entire poem. So sensuous! Love the image as well!
ReplyDeleteI am really liking your poetry, just found you this morning. Thuis was very sensual, the time of year we are still cold on the outside but long for warmth. Spring has been late in coming. Cheers
ReplyDelete