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Mourning Coffee
by Frank Fields
copyright 05-09-2008

Age Rating: 10 to 127

Picture Credits: http://www.allposters.com

for Susan, with her morning paper

The sound of stillness
In my head
Nothing yet, to make me wake
And greet the day anew.
Indeed, nothing new to make
Me greet the day at all.
Gray day mourning morn
The sun's asleep,
The world has died.
Drizzle drops drip down
Dark window pane
Hear the pitter pat of
Padded feet, softly go
To mourning table
Gray day morning
The sun still sleeps.
When will we wake
Without a wonder why
All life died and gone
Save wrens and swallows
Hungry for an early meal.
I see the words
But hear the wren,
The ghosts of night
Are almost gone
This new mourn day.
Smell the bean of brown
A burnt umber waterfall
Curling wisps of steam
Dance like faerie flies
Calling you to taste
This new day's morning.
Golden honey for the sweet
A Drop of cream
For O'Keeffe,
And painted dreams
Of mourning
This new day's morning.

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Help Us Stop Plagiarism - Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize. To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste. click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before you recommend or rate the work highly...

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Comments on this Article/Poem:
Click on the commenter's name to see their Author's Page

05-11-2008 Wayne Thomas

We have a budding Master among us! Deep, dark, depressive work. I also detect a bit of background humor there. Nicely done,
Wayne

05-10-2008 Frank Fields

As has oft been said, "Tis a dangerous business that, to broach the wordsmith in his lair." LOL

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