A tumultuous scramble of eggs
dances on a Teflon shore.
Sizzling its upbeat charm,
it congeals its epicurean fate.
The toaster’s wrath glows until dark lines
score bread with images
of keys and fences,
blanketed with buttery swellings
that slowly seep into its porous depths.
Coffee’s bitterness flees
beneath cream’s heavy comfort
as breakfast enables morning
to dispel rotten dreams,
opening potential’s door
with a slow creeping smile.
Brenda Warren 2012
Visit The Sunday Whirl.
A picture painted in words. Brilliant.
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Breakfast is my favourite meal and this poem made my mouth water … terrific!
Thanks for stopping by the Poet Treehouse earlier too brenda – much appreciated.
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As I was reading it I also was thinking of all the kitchens that are no more, scrambled by Sandy.
But the last line…there is hope – even for those made homeless. I guess it didn’t help that the last few verses I read were centered on Sandy. 🙂
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Fabulous, now I’m hungry 🙂
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I want to come over for bkfst. …. if I can hear more of this clever verse….loved it…
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wow! It really is the most important meal!
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Gosh, I smell coffee! And a happy good morning to you, Brenda!
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A perfect breakfast poem … delicious and healthy for the mind 🙂
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I love where you went with this!
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Sounds like breakfast is a pretty delicious thing at your house! It would surely be just a poem at our house! I always enjoy the wordles. Thanks.
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Breakfast never looked so good, nor quite so exciting. I really like that the wordles push us past the same old, same old. This is an excellent work of creativity, Brenda, congratulations,
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2012/11/04/what-would-the-neighbors-think/
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Lovely, lovely poem, Brenda. I am a big fan of coffee and your setting put me at ease with how I feel many mornings enjoying breakfast with my husband, thanks.
Pamela
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Bravo! I love it! This poem smiles with all the warmth and charm of a cozy Sunday morning.
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Breakfast is my favorite meal and now you’ve given words to the hopes it holds for the day- opening potential’s door!
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Well penned, Brenda. I take this to be a situational poem. During breakfast / times like these, a person just needs to realize ‘this too shall pass.’ These lines I definitely savored
Coffee’s bitterness flees
beneath cream’s heavy comfort
as I sit here drinking my own brew!
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I’m adding a `me too’ to Mary’s comment. Love those lines.
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Gosh, I feel hungry now. What a delicious treat this was 🙂
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My favorite!
annell-annell.wordpress.com
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Brenda, I had to get up and find some chocolate, so tasty are your images in this. Absolutely brilliant direction to take with these words.
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That first line made me smile, but what a clever way to describe scrambled eggs! I especially like the last stanza. The whole poem reminds me of Sunday breakfasts growing up… always eggs and bacon. Loved it!
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