Nancy Jones Poet Quatern

Shrill Sweet Sadness

The teapot whistling on the stove
reminded him of what had been
in settled domesticity
when they were only twenty-three.

The baby crying in the crib
the teapot whistling on the stove
the way her apron hugged her hips
the sparks that flew between their lips

creating scenes of bliss and strife.
And when she ceased to be his wife
the teapot whistling on the stove
was silenced, packed and stored away

in hopes of coming better days
with someone who would understand
the poignant songs brewed deep within
the teapot whistling on the stove.

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Joe Maverick November 13, 2011 at 2:03 PM Enjoyed this journey in a teapot Nancy, a well presented- emotive-and reflective poem here..

Linda-Marie Sweetheart November 13, 2011 at 1:50 PM wonderful write ..Nancy..good luck in the contest.. just finished mine..posting later luv.,.,, thankxx for my win in Scrabble.. a game we luv to play at my home... appreciate the honor and place ... it was a fun write to create.. in the end.,it all comes down to luv and passion..oh..

Jack Horne November 13, 2011 at 12:59 PM What a clever picture of domestic disharmony, my friend

Carrie Richards November 13, 2011 at 8:48 AM Wow,....there is a story here, that is sad, and made even more so, with the background of a baby crying....so much read between the lines. Great job, Nancy!