breakfast words

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.

20 thoughts on “breakfast words

  1. 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. 🙂


  2. 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!


  3. 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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