Best Cup And Saucer Poems
eyes that smile at me
bustling along same path
rehearsed many years
every cup and saucer
exactly placed as before
tea is ready now
her favorite brew on time
remembering smiles
Chimera of visual candy and sounds. I twirl my poetic skirt — the Magyar gypsy in me abandons time and space — the earth is mine — to mold, create as my God whispers splendiferous life, the ways of this sphere and paradise.
vainglorious words
floating in the atmosphere
i pop their bubbles
I free myself, listen to the critiques and adulation, twisted into the audience’s imagination. We collaborate in thunderstorms. I’m not a rock or an island but a diamond in the rough. Polish my adjectives and verbs. Resound the earthquake in my soul. Embellish my nouns and stamp on my heart.
the dew of my breath
joined with the peppermint wind
— rhapsodic rejoice
The world twirls in party spin until I’m dizzy and giddy. Our hands clasped - with centrifugal force — we go round and round. I capture in my mind’s eye the nuances of the ride. Fish fly and birds swim. Babies grow up and adults hush.
the cup and saucer
teatime passes by quickly
— porcelain shatters
Until my dying day, I will treasure this merry-go-round parade. My earrings dangle, my pearls midair, the embers of my hair, heels kicked up in lusty dust, doves cooing, ravens cawing. There’s always more to say.
skirt with pressed wrinkles
the restless iron suppressed
— abandon my death
7/6/2018
While lounging in my duster* watching news,
I have my morning coffee. When I'm through,
I wash my cup and saucer and admire
their elegance and pleasing shade of blue.
Like other lovely things I own--handbags,
Americana wreaths, and jewelry--
my dusters, cups, and saucers all came from
the popular Blue Daisy Company.
************************
Blue daisy plants don't flourish where I live;
and, even if they did, they wouldn't thrive
for me. I'm death to flowers! So I have
the artificial ones. They look alive!
Most of my rooms are graced with vases of
these blue silk beauties that appeal to my
calm, meditative side or to my sense
of whimsy. Then they make me smile and sigh.
*housedress
written June 18, 2017, and entered in Mystic Rose's Blue Daisy Contest
Ain't nothin' like a steamin' cup o' coffee to greet the early morn.
It'll calm yer nerves and git you goin' just as sure as you wuz born!
With mixin's added to suit yer taste, it must be scaldin' hot,
Decaf, regular, chicory-strong or mild, it really matters not!
Some folks prefer a styrofoam cup, others a massive mug,
But those proffer an indelicate way to down a gulpin' slug.
Others, a dainty cup and saucer, pinkie sedately bent,
Sippin' delicately so social faux pas one is sure to prevent!
I hear it ain't acceptable to dunk a donut in yer mug o' java,
Or pour coffee in a saucer to cool, tho' it's hot as flowin' lava.
But I ain't concerned about it bein' a great big social blunder,
As folks disdainfully stare at me as if I wuz some alien wonder!
Docs debate the merits of caffeine, whether it's healthy or not.
Let 'em bicker, I'll decide what to percolate in my coffee pot!
My dear old Dad had his daily caffeine fix, livin' 'til ninety-four.
I've done the same fer years and I'm approachin' nigh four-score!
Nowadays, fancy concoctions are brewed for the discernin' taste;
Expresso, mocha, cappuccino, even Irish whiskey laced!
Such exotic ambrosia to others I'll graciously defer.
I'll keep on slurpin' an ordinary cop 'o joe, which I much prefer!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
I do not recall which brand of coffee she liked best.
Nor do I remember if she liked it with cream and sugar.
But I am certain that she liked it strong and hot; so hot in fact,
That she could not drink directly from the cup.
A new day had dawned, and it was time for the coffee.
With cup and saucer in hand, her morning moment had arrived.
Not a major historical event, but for ME, she was making a memory.
After filling the cup, she would slowly pour the steaming hot coffee
Into the saucer. Then, she would gently blow, making it right for sipping.
Perhaps a common practice at the time, and unworthy of anybody’s attention.
But with wide-eyed interest in sipping A LITTLE BOY watches and captures A ’magical moment’.
Grandma and the years have passed on, and I suspect that ‘Saucer Sipping’ no longer exists;
but the captured moment in MY MEMORY will never die.
No amount of time, or changes in the culture of coffee,
Can erase the beautiful snapshot of one treasured moment.
I see A WIDE-EYED KID who has become a senior citizen.
I see the cup and coffee in MY HAND, taking sips without a saucer.
And I still see Grandma, happy and sipping her soothing hot coffee.
I SEE the cup, the saucer, the sipping, and the entire magical moment.
Chaucer and a Cup and Saucer
I just had been reading some Chaucer
When I picked up a cup from its saucer
Looked below and by chance saw Chaucer's name
Would this help me find much fortune and fame?
Now could it really be that Canterbury Tails
Have been hard to read when the light fails
And one was a tall tale about a parsonigin
Who was first to come up with name Carcinogen.
Chaucer's style was rather nonchalant
All of his handsomeness others would haunt
With clothes full of ruffles, buttons and bows
And what is else only haven now knows.
When Chaucer wrote, it was with a vengeance
Which in those days was only worth two pence
Later held his book and it around was swirling
Then later sold it for around two pound sterling.
Book was dirty so we washed it with a bath
And am not quite whether it was have or hath
Finally, after they reached a happy accord
Mine eyes saw glory coming from the Lord.
James Thomas Horn
I wound her around my pinky
She wrapped her heart
in cellophane
and gave it me for my birthday
I gave her myself
in rough paper
Nothing fancy, just the pieces
she seemed to like
no bows, no card
and she accepted it excitedly
as if she somehow knew
it wasn’t me
I painted her a cup and saucer
she filled it to the brim
with smiles
she added ample milk and sugar
to my canvas, white
pure delight
As we sipped on memories,
not those of the past,
but coming
where a blank canvas waited
anticipating brush strokes,
colorfully expressed
***
September 10, 2017
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
This may seem a vacuous subject upon which to muse,
But ain't it amazin' the myriad of hats from which to choose?
Browsin' through the haberdashery or millinery shop in town,
You're bound to find the perfect lid to place upon your crown!
There is everything from snoods to keep the ladies' hair in place,
To fanciful bonnets trimmed with flowers, ribbons and lace.
Even pert veiled chapeaus appropriate for crumpets and tea,
For society dames as they balance cup and saucer on the knee!
For the sportin' bloke there's a selection of deerstalker caps,
And a vast array of domed derbys for the more debonair chaps.
Available for the dapper gentleman is quite a plethora,
Of the ever-popular, colorful and rakish felt fedora!
A cowpoke can select a ten-gallon Stetson to match his boots,
Makin' a fashion statement among his feller galoots.
For summer, the discriminatin' gent can opt for a Panama,
Or choose a flat-topped skimmer or boater made of straw!
Berets are obtainable for guys wishin' a military mien,
And a jaunty Alpine hat is available called a tyrolean.
But classy hats aside, no matter whether lass or lad,
Seems that wearing a baseball cap (backwards) is the latest fad!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Burden of a Hasty Marriage.
He saw her at the cafe she a cup of cacao and eating a cream cake,
he had a sandwich with cheese and ham. She looked up and smiled,
he knew she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Shy, as he was, still found the courage to get up and walk over to her
table and ask if he could eat his modest sandwich with her; she said
yes and they sat there in silence, just eating. Dimly he knew he had to
say something, but couldn’t but couldn’t find the words so he ate
the cup and saucer, the table cloth, serviettes and crumbs of her cake,
when he began eating the table she told him to stop. Ice broken he said
he loved her, she said she loved him, not to waste time they got married
in the afternoon. Found a hotel room and stayed in bed for a fortnight.
Made love in every position one could think of; they even forgot to eat.
Entwined they slept until a knock on the door, something about paying
for the room. For him was a welcomed distraction, got up had to go to
his bank he told her, two weeks in bed it stunk like a pig sty. Paid his bill
but didn’t enter their room, he was cured of love based on sex alone
I’ve set my table; time for tea!
It is an elegant affair.
My doggie sits across from me.
For Teddy there’s a tiny chair.
My two girl cats on chairs sit too.
I’ve set my table; time for tea.
My boy cat Prince begins to mew.
Beside me on the floor is he.
A cup and saucer gingerly
I lay down for him on the floor.
I’ve set my table. Time for tea
with all my friends that I adore:
Three cats, a dog (sweet pets are they),
and my dear teddy bear so wee.
The same as I do every day,
I’ve set my table. Time for tea!
11/9/2019
For Eve Roper's Rhyming Me A Poem 2 Poetry Contest
Based on Picture #4
I love each little plate of blue,
and every cup and saucer, too;
you have been mine for many years.
I treasure you. I wept hot tears
when once a child in careless play,
who knew he should not come your way,
knocked you across the table top.
I held my breath but could not stop
the clatter, shatter: it is true
my heart has been broken same as you.
But just because a plate is glued,
the handle of a cup is, too,
I do not love you less today:
I love you more I would say.
I value you more your fragile art:
you are so like a broken heart.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
I'm not going to worry,
About anything today
I'll get my broom
And with a Whooosh,
I'll sweep them all away.
I refuse to look at any newspaper,
Or watch the TV.
I'll sit out in the garden,
To drink my cup of tea.
It's peaceful in my garden,
It makes me feel so calm
I feel completely content
Without feelings of alarm
As I walk back into the house
With the cup and saucer in my hand,
Back to reality,
To a life that resembles quicksand.
Sucked into a vortex
Of unnecessary strife
How much longer will it take
Before we get back our life.
The scissor-
Twins like cup and saucer
Eyed,but no vission
Waiting for commands like a soldier
Tells,"single hand can't clap, come together"
Cuts like politicians
Wounds won't bleed
A house hold like a wife
All I did was get in the water
to bath, drink and have a little think,
but when I did finally emerge
all of the others had gone extinct!
There was some kind of death power purge.
They all left me, oh, they had such nerve!
Fate not only allowed me to live,
it gave me a life that has no quit
and I tell you, it is not a gift.
I really believe I got short shift,
not to mention, a well-known nickname
that is far and way beyond insane.
Now all I ever hear is Loch Ness.
As a should be goner, called monster,
I cannot even leave this water;
we are stuck like a cup and saucer.
If I were to walk upon the shore
all would see I am a dinosaur.
breakfast settlement
menu opinionated
cup and saucer cleared
9/8/2018