Thursday, March 29, 2018




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.

March 2012
an old favorite, in Kerry's triptych form, 
 reposted for 
Fireblossom's Poetic Imagery 

Image: Tea Time, © Ellen Wilson of Ella's Edge


  1. I love 'tannic with memories';
    'so haute cuisine, salad of baby greens
    tossed in hope and fear, before
    the soup of dreams';
    'flyblown object on display but not
    for sale'.
    I also love the leap from 'flyblown' to firefly'.

  2. This is so aswirl with beautful imagery that I cant begin to quote favourite lines, I would have to quote it all. Just perfection, Joy. Wowzers!

  3. See, this is why consider you a past mistress of the poetic image. That second stanza in particular just astounds with the strength of your ideas and phrasing. To anyone I would say: "This is how it's done."

  4. astounding visuals in each stanza
    "dressed in rue and fired clay,
    so haute cuisine, salad of baby greens"
    and what makes it go down so smoothly is the wonderful rhythm

  5. Favorite lines: the first, uh, the second, the third...heckins. all of them. the imagery in this was beyond elegant and tightly parsed,

  6. dressed in rue

    does it for me. I wear that robe right now, and have a cuppa brick-cold of that last line, too


    1. wait a minute, just re-read this...

      tea... tannic... that isn't a play on Titanic, is it?

      because if it is, it's damn sly. and if it's not, well, I'm an idiot anyways, so nothing newsworthy there

    2. Ha! Sly I am not. But I like the pun--might as well be--all I'm doing is rearranging deck chairs all day anyway...thanks for the second read.

  7. Ooh, the triptych.. I must try that again. I am glad I got to read this set again on Easter Friday morning. The middle panel is especially crystalline in its depiction but all the more rich for the outer two.

  8. Friendship is like this, don't you think? Somehow I read this as an ode to Shay (that "firefly face, I guess), though really muses and spirit guides come from every and any angle. We can sure use all the help we can get. In AA they say God is eye-level, meaning we hear and see the divine in our fellows; the companionable poem nurses like, well, a shared cuppa tay.

    1. I thought it might be nice to post something a bit less dreary. Not Shay, fireflies aside, but yes, I had someone in mind when I wrote it. Thanks B.

  9. This is stunning... how you use the the imagery of taste for relationships... the tannin and the sweetness, it all has to balance, and then in the second part the wonderful images of moon...

  10. I've no idea where to start. All right, that's a total lie--I want to start and end with how much I delight in sensuality gone cosmic. There is something special that always happens between your words and the moon and sun and other stars... I first felt it when I fell in absolute love with your "Pyrexia Eclipsed". I know the two poems are very different in tone. The first is full of destructive chaos, this one is the sort of storms delight-kissed paroxysms are made of. There is a love dancing with hotter things that involve all the senses and the universe, too, but in the end... it's rather personal to the speaker and her subject. Their world is made of them--her chest loving his heart, his heart loving the space she makes for him.

  11. I particularly like that final couplet. That blue sky mouth - just gorgeous.


"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats

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