Musings by The Poet Loriet
Coffee Talk
"Yeah, girl,
you're getting
your cream on!,"
you quip as I fix
a little coffee
with my cream.
The swirling caramel
is liquid magic to me,
sipped from Art Deco mugs
as I read the latest
Avante Garde literature.
I perch casually
on the couch
with my array of journals,
looking every bit
the moody writer.
Something about
allowing myself the luxury
of a steamy delight
brings my muses
bubbling to
the frothy
surface.
As I meditate,
swirling my stir stick
through creamy fulfillment,
I envision poetic words
linking together--
word soup in my cuppa.
Nothing can compare
to coffee talk moments
spent with you,
my charming muse.
I always see your face
smiling encouragingly
at me from the depths of
the flavor of the day.
Lori Beal
you're getting
your cream on!,"
you quip as I fix
a little coffee
with my cream.
The swirling caramel
is liquid magic to me,
sipped from Art Deco mugs
as I read the latest
Avante Garde literature.
I perch casually
on the couch
with my array of journals,
looking every bit
the moody writer.
Something about
allowing myself the luxury
of a steamy delight
brings my muses
bubbling to
the frothy
surface.
As I meditate,
swirling my stir stick
through creamy fulfillment,
I envision poetic words
linking together--
word soup in my cuppa.
Nothing can compare
to coffee talk moments
spent with you,
my charming muse.
I always see your face
smiling encouragingly
at me from the depths of
the flavor of the day.
Lori Beal
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Coffee Talk
Coffee Talk
