Friday, September 24, 2010

My Coffee Cup

It lies quietly on the shelf
Every day it smiles at me
Revealing that look of ‘return’
The story behind my retired coffee cup;

It was a long, long time ago
When all felt and smelt tiring
I look around, trying hard to get some comfort,
Some console just to give me that spurn, that gear
To pick my pen, pad and write as much as I could

But alas!
Nay consternation!

There I stared in abstract air
No words,
No lines
No meaning to my scribbling
Not until I picked ‘the cup’
Made my constant mind racer; coffee!

Whao! Now, my notebook is full with meaning too.
My eyes lusted after the coffee cup
Just as my taste buds coined avenues to sip a cup of
Coffee every hour and then;

Then the severance, my coffee felt uneasy someday
Dropped and chattered to pieces
As my mind dragged through clearing the remains,
My taste buds told tales of memories that appeared real

Days, weeks, months passed
But I could not get over my dear coffee cup,
My dear coffee cup would not return to me.
Then gone with my coffee cup is the usual dialogue
Between my taste bud, brain and mind.

I must rescue it!

After few recalling days my cup returns.
Although in a different design and colour.
But not my lost one, another it is.

My coffee cup is!
Now, like the new splash of cloud on the sky
My coffee cup returns
Like the shining glow striding
Through the morning tap.
My coffee cup returns
Like my lost heart and mind
My coffee cup returns
Kudos to my coffee cup
My coffee cup!