Tuesday, April 7, 2015

That First Cup of Coffee

I left your bed this morning
when it was still warm
darkness meshed with
the cool morning air
a pool of gold
washed over the floor
the first flash of light
smashed into the window
painting a streak in your hair
I would paint you in oils
but I know not of art
when I got to the kitchen
the stove was still cold
so I made you fresh coffee
with the warmth of my heart.

Copyright © 2015 by Lowell A. Anderson
All right reserved.


William Kendall said...

Good imagery!

Linda said...

This is very nice! First I have seen your poetry, Lowell.

stardust said...

I seem to have missed this poem so long. This is one of my favorites of yours, Lowell. Congratulations on your publishing “Perched on the Edge. The title stimulates my imagination. I searched it at Amazon and found it.. so cool! Does the book contains some of poems from this blog and plus your songs? Keep on creating with your warm heart, insightful eyes, and sense of humour.


Small City Scenes said...