Poem for her 647

Dear Readers,


Coffee

The brew was dripping hot
The smell a chocolate warm
There was a hint of other things
Sweet flowers on the table
That smokey wood in the fire place
The butter melted on toast
The table set for two but not
There was only one plate in the middle
The cups each had different colors in them
Mine a creamy colored chocolate
Yours a black dye of steam
The eggs on top were sliced to shreds
The toast was going fast
The noodles too
The plate turned round
The fork to slice
The fork to eat
The camera held and recording
Our talk crisp as the sun outside
The smells the camera couldn't see
But the smiles and banter it could
Good Morning

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.