Smiles In a Coffee House
Behind the barricade of books and papers,
In the earthy rise of espresso grinding,
Misty jets and the steaming milk,
Lavish scents and aromas black and silk;
Until the senses swim in their filters,
Percolated with velveteen sound and vision,
The caffeine palpitates from sip to vein,
Condensation accrues on the stencilled pane.
Across the babble and bubble of prose
Quoted and blown like froth from the cups,
Tinkling silverware, china rapping,
Rose red nails upon cedar-wood, tapping.
When the smile breaks from a private jest,
Or something her cellphone lover said,
Like the sun coming out in a rain-forest mist
Lips of a goddess that beg to be kissed;
I feel like a trespasser, a casual voyeur,
Yet my gaze cannot leave her Brazillian eyes,
Americano heat flares in my heart suddenly,
And I wish, how I wish, she were smiling for me.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2006
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