Best Wifewater Poems

Morning Lazy

She bends over me as I sit yawning 
      morning lazy at the kitchen 
                     table;

    ever carefully, with a potholder, 
         she gently holds and lifts 
                the pan handle.

Slowly she pours steaming, gleaming 
          water into a cup, filling 
               without spilling;

 the brown powder tosses tiny islets 
    on the rippling surface, floating, 
                    swirling,

disappearing as they quickly dissolve;
         the water turns into amber 
                      syrup;

and she stirs tiny circlets with my spoon; 
      tan, sudsy whirlpools hypnotize 
                     my cup!