Poetry is our Cafe,
Pouring metaphors into tiny teacups,
Our words..oops..worlds collided one September day
Sipping, merrily our tea,
we shared a piece of cake together
Our ears drunk with words...our Poetry
Our souls slowly becoming lovers
Sitting at table number three,
The waiter took our orders,
Served us toast and Rosy Lee
As we two sat deep in thoughts
pondering one another.
Poetry is our Cafe,
And words our favorite brew,
It seems like only yesterday,
In a cozy little cafe, two bards met...
me and you!
Penned by, Mary Gonzalez
© 2003 |
