Short Steeping Poems

A nice cup of tea 
steeped to perfection to drink 
calming reflection...

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Stifling heat
broods on the land,
smothers any impulse
to stir.
Sluggish afternoon hours
drip, 
stick 
to the skin,
steeping us
in lethargy.

7/12/2017...

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the rich uses the heads of the poor 
as their steeping stone             
to where they are going
do not be consumed                
by the love for material wants
and be enslaved by your own greediness...

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Watermelon, honeydew
   Cantaloupe and peaches too
With Nature's nectar all imbued
   ~ Yet none as sweet as you

Tea steeping, coffee brewing
   Glazed honey-carrots stewing
Their aromas, so inviting
   ~ Only you do I delight in...

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Hear grandma’s tea-kettle whistle,
quaint-blessings…out-moded thistles.

Soak mighty generation soil,
leaves steeping…ancient toil.

Stir mind over matters Gen-Z,
while you and bestie, spill the tea.


*spill the tea - gossip
**bestie - best friend...

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the morning is crisp
frost is all but settled
among the grass and 
along the eaves of our old house
the brittle branches hang lowly
as scarlet twisted sun
begins to emerge from shadowed clouds
and i enjoy steeping coffee
while looking out from the inside...

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Infamy is not dignified. 

Or pleasant. 

As the speculation would pool around me. 

I would find myself degrading. 

And feeling horrified. 

Shaking from the travesty-

The one used to keep me safe. 

Steeping in the empathy-

That they say I’m not capable of....

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from the brewing storm's steeping chalice
the breath of death's journey awakens in quiet tides
beckoned by the stirring whisper of mortal winds
furrowed by stoic angels in pallid temporal skies


April 17, 2021


Excerpted from "My Silent House"


Liberum Divisa 5 Poetry Contest...

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Posted - 10/18/2007 :  19:39:51         
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
in brush strokes
paints possible angle
simply grasp light in shadow.

nuances in re-creation puzzles
resamples its light steeping colors
paint flushing colors reclaim its soul...

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I hear a melody floating in the wind
Lyrical whispers played in F sharp
as though a violin had been chinned
or an angel is caressing the strings of a harp

It dried the tears of willows, weeping
Tickled the ears of a slumbering dream
drifted past my window as tea was steeping
with a love sweeter than skimmed cream...

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Deep are the questions, like quicksand sinking
Seeping into a restless mind pressing
Weeping with release, yet overthinking
Sleep comes uneasy with dreams distressing

Heaps of concepts lead to faulty linking
Steeping upon words without expression
Sheep are miscounted with rapid blinking
Leaping to conclude a wrong impression

12-10-2020...

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EXPLOSION IN THE LIBRARY

The stacks loaded with baby diapers -
Even one will explode the pages.

No ventilation outside restroom doors,
I can’t hold my breath anymore.

Why so bold, when fresh –
Like steeping tea…

Oh, forgive this image!
I run for cover, taking my leave –

Outside to the parking lot -
Where I can breathe…

9/26/2016...

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I am filled to the brim with negative energy
From head to toe, about to overflow

I try to pour it out into words but I seem to have no leak
On my tongue it lingers; it won’t leave my fingers

I want to get rid of it, I want to be emptied
But I can’t find the words, and I’m only left a-stirred

By this poisonous substance steeping inside of me....

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Manipulation
Procrastination
Isolation
No motivation

Bell rings
Kettle sings
Timer dings
Pendulum swings

Frenetic
Pathetic
No work ethic
Copacetic

Obsession
Possession
Depression
Aggression 

Alarm beeping
Secret keeping
Trauma steeping
Expletive bleeping

Dramatic
Ecstatic
Fanatic
Traumatic

Affliction
Suspicion
Mortician
Addiction...

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A Place to
 Be
		I hope that Sally is where
		there are cats that curl
		in sunspots on a floor
		and readers who peruse
		novels slowly from cover
		to cover through long
		Sunday afternoons.
		Or it could be Monday
		when the washing is done
		and the red beans are steeping.
		I would make my way there
		to make the memory mine
		with a nice bottle of wine....

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The Tea of Life

You wear your memories
like scars
itching to peel them one by one
to anyone who will listen…
but once you do, the recollections
smart with pain as sharp as bee stings
lingering long after your second cup of coffee…
it’s what kept you going all these years
that and all the novels
you read while your husband
was sleeping… all those other
lives you exchanged yours with
while yours was just steeping....

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The words are scrambled
Inside the walls crumbling
The words are muffled
Within the mind sleeping
The words are quiet
Inside the thoughts weeping
The words are loud
Within realities keeping
The words are silent
Inside the body steeping

Spilled on a canvas of white
Not always sounding right
The words appear
But do they hear
The words within
As they spin and spin
Clinging to the visions
Of thoughts divisions

Debra Squyres
12/27/12...

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With vision diffuse and fragile frame, 
  These, the twilight years commence, 
Yet arms to hold each other close 
  Seem no less fierce, less intense. 

What smacked of callow rapidity, 
  The rush of youth and virgin bud, 
Is mellowed, matured throughout the span 
  Of decades steeping in the blood. 

The two of us in sunset swathe, 
  As now, these twilight years enfold, 
Together we endure and sense 
  The perfect love in growing old....

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Date: 15/05/2021

"The sky prepares the sun for night
  Where drifting clouds are slowly steeping
  In tepid pools of waning light"
the moon's sweet polish softly keeping.

While birds drift off in blissful rest
and critters lay their snuggling heads
remembering how they passed the test
of life and praise upon their beds

The One who gave it all to them
Forgetting not His power
and dream bounties more than gems
until sun's rising hour....

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