Ode to my cup
Your top edge
is geometry –
a never-ending
finger-tracing
line.
Your inside
is liquidity –
a tepid spa
of chocolate
that I’d rather
had been
hot.
Your handle
bends its elbow.
Linking up,
I sip.
A tulip to my lips –
You are my cup.
Copyright © Jeanette Swan | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment