I put you in my tea
tannic with memories;
stirred, they go down smoother
sipping on your ways.
Put on my plate you make
an evergreen presentation,
dressed in rue and fired clay,
so haute cuisine, salad of baby greens
tossed in hope and fear, before
the soup of dreams.
I put you on the moon
sitting where she bends
your cloven feet a-dangle in
their blurred and slippery stars.
You ease Orion’s belt, give cloudy listening blinks;
I whisper in your thunder covered ear until
you put me in the storm
flying with wings of rain
where cold front meets the warm.
I put you in my heart
little shop of horrors
cobweb seeded, only one
flyblown object on display but not
for sale. Pressed against the glass
your firefly face winks in the indigo night
where ribboned time slips tight in a lover's knot
and tea is sweet as your blue sky mouth my love,
sweeter than floating memories dead in the pot.
Posted for real toads
Kerry's Wednesday Challenge, always original, and always really a challenge, was to write a poem in three distinct but united parts, reflecting the concept of a triptych in the visual arts.
Image: Tea Time, by Ellen Wilson of Ella's EdgeBorrowed from Real Toads Sunday Challenge with Ellen Wilson