Not Just A Cup

 Not Just a Cup 

 

 

Southern born

Not a tea drinker

Always coffee

For me

 

Although I often find 

Bitter taste

Of the dark brew

A bit much

 

a little sugar and cream needed

To cut the bitter taste

It is a bit of a quandary

I really don’t like sweet coffee

 

Not just a cup of coffee

a cup of wake-up

a cup of come-to

a cup of get going

 

morning start

coffee strong brew

dark and stout

spine stiffening

 

try not to spit it out

hold it in your mouth

swallow

drink it down

 

hold out your cup

ask for another

a challenge this day will be 

Written for:  Newwhat'sgoingon.blogspot.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Color

 Color

 

Can we speak of color?

And what is it for?

Perhaps, so we can tell one flower 

From another

 

Can we speak of color?

a simple tool

It must be seen

The beauty of the world

 

Added drop by drop

In perfect harmony

Every color of the rainbow

And then some

 

Can we speak of color?

Each moment of the day

Rendered to help 

Us find our way

 

Can we speak of color?

A lifetime study

No way to know them all

Primary colors, secondary colors and on and on

 

Can we speak of color?

Nothing definite

Absolutely changeable

Just when you think you know

 

Color will become something else

Mysterious, unnamable

Changing right before your eyes

An outlaw element to be sure

 

Can we speak of color?

And the mysteries that surround

How is it different from the other elements?

It is the only one we respond to with love or hate

 

No usually we do not say,

“Oh I love that shape”

Or, “I love that line”

But we do say, “I love that color!”

Written for:  https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2024/02/colors-passing-through.html

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You Left in the Morning

You left in the Morning

 

I promised I would return in the morning

And I did

I was late because the driver 

Had many stops to make

 

I was not the only one 

There were many

Stops and starts

 

Drop off one

Pick up another

 

Still when I arrived

The woman at the desk

Recognized me

And asked to be sure

 

She said

He has just passed

I was too late

 

Too see you one last time

The night before as I was leaving

I stopped at the desk

And asked how long it would be

 

I was told, “Oh, it might be weeks.”

The morning came and you

Were gone

 

Before I left home

I asked you, “ What should I hope for?”

Your answer, “That he does not suffer long.”

 

Long?  How long is too long?

What is the measurement?

How is one to know?

Written for:  https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com   Aubade

 https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com   Aubade

Safe

 Safe 

 

it is the thing we all desire

safety for ourselves

and for those we love

 

yet….where is it safe?

under the desk or table

and safe from what?

 

I think we would like to be safe

at the end of the day

we will return home

without worry or strife

 

or is it safety in relationship?

you will care for me

as I care for you

protect you from harm

 

there is much to fear 

In this life

will bombs explode?

as we lie down to rest

 

you can never be sure

so we will take what safety

we can

 

live in the sunshine

feed the chickens

pet the dog

and snuggle the cat

 

that is enough

Written for:  https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com