Fog comes creepin',
an early morning blur.
The ink sketched world
is etched on silver.
A Ghost planet greets
my half-open eyes.
Why'd this cloud cover
abdicate the sky?
In my hand,
a mug of caffine bliss
coffee--warmth and sachrine--
greets me with sweetness
As I occupy my bath robe
brooding on my place within
this newspaperless dimension,
waiting for my cat
to come home--
nice way to start the day, with a cup of java..but i don't drink coffee; i drink coca cola!! >grins < good write!! p.s.: this poem would fit my boss, reuben..he is a COFFEE HOUND!! LOL
ahhhh...this is to be savored, like a fine cup of coffee...it's aroma lingers...fantastic write, lee! (((HUGS))) and love, karla. (i'll have another cup)
Major League ballplayer Justin Moore is kidnapped from his own ballpark and transported to a foreign land. It might take high-level international negotiations to free him. Or maybe he will take matters into his own hands.
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