Best Lait Poems
A reflection of the coloured pencil drawn sky
skates on the glass smooth surface below it.
While a rebellious group of shades take their positions
on a glorious stage to express themselves artistically and
I...
i think of you
Wisps of clouds shaped like a palm leaf
fan the winds that stoke the fire
of a randomly sketched sunset.
I...
i think of you
The cool of an ocean breeze
travels the shadows of this low lit evening.
Caresses my skin like the essence of romance.
Enthralled by the allure of a candle lit sky,
I...
i think of you...
Our French Bakery early mornings.
Café au lait and croissants.
Our freesia soaked baths.
Your mink soft body.
Its milk and honey scent.
As I fall off
the edge of the world,
I...
i think of you.
March 19 2015
Armand
Inspired by the write of you
creamed through a paper sieve to cup
with both hands the leavings that you trail
the write of you
like the chewed edge of hand pressed paper
like the apostrophe of lash on the cheeky page
I ogle the syncopated semen-antic drop of
the write of you
how often does the wonder of you flash
across the film of my eyes unable reach
for I am so enchanted with the coffee-au-lait
write of you
When I wake up, you'll be there
Warm mocha eyes, café au lait
On cold days. On warm: parfait
On rippling breeze of wind, air claire
In gliding streams of sundust words
I see inside the one you are
The one so near, so very far
Smithereens of you, carried by birds
Perfection, it does not exist
You are, I am, nous sommes
Each other's imperfection balm:
Completing what the other's misses
Each time I sleep, you're with me
I revel in your familiar wheeze
I add mine too, one wheezing breeze
Lovely and (im)parfait, across the sea
***
March 24, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
I’m a little teapot*
Of that there is no doubt
I need my first fix in the morning
Or I will scream and shout!
The kettle whistles to let me know
It’s time to make my tea
The tea bag is waiting in my cup
There is always plenty of tea for me
Every morning I drink Tetley’s -
I don’t leave the bag too long to stew!
In the afternoon I will drink green tea
It is such a refreshing brew
Tetley tea I make with a little milk
I drink around eight cups a day
It’s my favourite drink in the world
I'd rather drink tea than café au lait!
Wake up with a coffee or tea contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
*First line is from a nursery rhyme ‘I’m a little teapot’ The song was originally written by George Harold Sanders and Clarence Z. Kelley and published in 1939.
My mum is also a big tea drinker and I’ve always referred to myself as a ‘teapot’
12~01~16
there is no better way to greet the morning sun
than with a hot croissant and café au lait
on a quaint terrace in the mecca of fashion elegance
striking a pose à la Coco Chanel
before hitting the perfumeries
and climbing the heights of the Eiffel Tower
to get that bird’s eye view of the Seine
and watch twilight descend on Paris
as street lights burst in clusters
catching her running down the cobble streets
just like Cinderella
AP: 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2021
Love is like a warm wooly hat
On a cold and blustery day
A raincoat shielding from a driving rain
A cup of cafe au lait
The morning sun spreading its joy
The warmth of a child's touch
A sleepy hello from the love of your life
Tender words that mean so much
Can you think of anything sweeter
Than the call of a whippoorwill
A protective lioness feeding her cubs
A meadow at midnight so still
Mere words at times fail to express
What's hidden deep in our hearts
Only with time honoured expressions
Are we able to describe it in part
There are so many words and phrases
But none so meaningful as this
A gentle touch, a warm tender smile
A long and passionate kiss
Love is like a warm wooly hat
On a cold and blustery day
A raincoat shielding us from a driving rain
A cup of cafe au lait
© Jack Ellison 2012
Hungry in France
Garçon, garçon
bring hot soupçon
bouillabaisse accent egu.
Qu'est-ce que c’est, qu’est-ce que c’est?
Sounds like I’m un peu coucou.
Sacrebleu, Sacrebleu
what can I do?
In French all I learned to say
was frère Jacques frère Jacques
and café au lait, olay!
Starving; I am starving;
I’m hungry as a hog
still snails will never touch my tongue
nor the legs of a frog.
Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
May 24, 2012
For Cyndi's "Un deux trois"
Ignore it if you want - I just couldn't get the poetry form down.i
in my dream of dreams
i wake so gently
nudge you as you sleep
the caress to tantalize you
aroma seductive in the air
café au lait brought to your lips
secretly how I long to be
the sprinkle of sugar in your cup
the jam on your croissant
your morning ray of sunshine
o how I long to be
the spark of joy
upon your smile
AP: 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on January 26, 2022 for contest A STRAND (1060) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Posted on October 28, 2021
Ah, Paris, is still calling me, as a romantic lover that has been the
background of my dreams. Though life passes by like a falling star
the hopeful trip still flows through my bloodstream. I’ve put off
hearing ‘Comment-allez vous’, which is an old reminder of what
someday I must do. Sometimes my thought’s wander to the
banks of the Seine yet I’ve never been except in pictures back
then. Will it ever happen? I long to stroll down the Champ
De Elysee for a whole day during the lovely month of May.
And when I gaze upon the Arc De Triomphe, I won’t state
‘humph’, rather it will be my own triumph. I’d love to
sit for hours, and be transformed by the power of the
Eiffel Tower. There will be plenty of time to visit the
Louvre and Notre Dame which are two good reasons
why I came. I’ll also see the castle Versailles before
I die; only as long as I give a try. And when hunger
sets in I’ll order café au lait in a sidewalk café on
the Champ De Elysee, and maybe I’ll say, merci.
A baguette with some brie will go wonderfully
With this bucket list spree in good old Paris.
Paris has always been the X on my treasure
map, though wrinkled and worn going way
back, I had sworn to dig up my dream, ah
some day, some day. Au revoir mon ami.
Le Bucket List by David Fisher for Bucket List Contest
Trump's golf course has a Miss Fore Play
Who's on the tease most every day
At a random hole
She swallows a pole
To the chant and cheers of, "au lait!"
A concert hall was filled to capacity,
with revelers unaware of the atrocity,
they were about to face.
Evil dressed in black, intent to kill,
aimed their weapons with precise skill,
and fired into that place.
A favored cafe on a Paris street,
where friends, loved ones oft would meet,
drinking their cafe au lait.
Assassins came and took their position,
to kill and terrorize their intention,
on that tragic day.
Chaos ran rampant in Paris, France,
as ISIS took its murderous stance,
against humanity.
Many were wounded and many died,
and all the world was horrified,
at such insanity.
Anger rises alongside mourning.
Retaliation swift, without warning,
the French fight back.
The world must stand up to these thugs,
destroy them, squash them just like bugs.
We can't be slack.
We mourn with France for those who died,
and we will stand close by her side,
until we win,
this war against cruelty and hate.
Annihilation will not be our fate.
We won't give in.
11/24/15
For Debbie Guzzi's Rime Couee-tail-rhyme
contest for France
Tied for 3rd place
Cafe
Au lait.
Milk and caffeine caress
In an ecstatic embrace,
Drink me.
She is the sweetness
of dark chocolate
the mystery of nature
black and warm
a rich soil
She is made of
brown sugar
and honey
amber love potions
a cafe au lait
Fantasies of her
dance in my head
moonlight rhapsody
as I kiss and
lick her body
Her lips so full
soft and wet
she hurls kisses
like roses of fire
that melt me
Sexy brown gaze
casting sorcery
hot chocolate
smooth and sultry
thick as night...
Are we good global citizens?
Didn't we sell the world Uranium?
The future is an open book-----
Here's a concept worth a look.
Each of us in a calm place,
One peaceful, equitable human race,
One vast people, maybe café au lait,
One global language, perhaps,
One informal faith, for chicks and chaps,
Billions of human ants, billions,
Pigeons ready for Peace Religion,
A future for the young,
Or has capitalism really won?
Who comes second in any war?
Haven't we heard it all before?
Are we good global citizens?
Who did sell the world Uranium?
Well...............
walking slow, oh it could be called dancing
crowded with Bourbon Street night people
music filling the air, we stop every so often
wrapped arms around each other and swayed
firing up to the already hot-blood New Orleans
seems to affect all the out-of-town tourists and
the nights are specially made for physical reaction
big easy, sin city, whatever, a city of cool coitus
her willowy body pressed so close to mine
her face in my neck nuzzling and groping
I feel her eyelashes teasing, pleasing, my neck
we're fused together with lover's super glue
she broke away, her café au lait eyes dancing
as she tiptoed up to speak softly in my ear
in her intense and absolute Cajun accent
sha, we gon stay out heah on da street all night
lovely Denise didn't need to say anymore
I danced her back to her pad above Galatoire's
and it wasn't just to get the grime off when
we showered with plenty of soap and water