Your feathery quill struck my eye
as I butter my toast of rye.
I hunger for your poetic words
that fly off like a flock of birds.
Into the night they disappear
behind a cloud that's very sheer.
Then in dawn's light as coffee brews
poetic words and honey fuse.
2 comments:
My honeyed words sweeten your coffee
that you may taste the flavor of my thoughts
stirred by you, as you butter me like toast!
However, you might find that the taste of
honey-flavored coffee is a taste of acquire.
Taste…the soft coffee flavor; a hint of honey;
the thickness of hot air; the ink of a fresh pen,
as words whisper through the aspen’s leaves.
Don’t be afraid to taste your own ideas true
flavors as your palate gladdens with the taste
of poetry, before thoughts recede unrealized.
Damn it, sir! I want a cup of coffee now but it's too late and I don't feel like making it! lol
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