suntannedapples

Friday, April 19, 2024

The exquisite, the fragile,

cool as ice,

and when filled with the hot and steamy brew,

drape your hand with its fingers around

these round shapes of cups and mugs, and feel

the warmth of the sunfilled plantation of' fields of coffee and tea.

Beyond the customary sight of afternoon trees,

my mind wanders to regions of

the slopes of hills

where the sight was a feasting on greenery

and the senses were drunk on the aroma of steams

wafting on the breeze in a paradigm of ecstatic dream. Tea time,

any time, any day, a choice of the hour

between thirst for ice or a yearning for the warmth

brushing past the tongue and going down the throat in joyous tumble...

And when the afternoon shines under the passing clouds,

and the table is laid with the pink and white and stripes of gold,

and vases overflowing with roses and carnations,

a scintillating golden brew of tea or the darkest brown of the coffee like a mystery of a woman's heart,

one of these be my choice with you sitting opposite to me,

and your eyes a deep blue sea.

Sushama Karnik.

18/04/2024.

So beautifully calling to all the senses! A celebration of the art of drinking and sipping the nectar of life; an exploration of the essence of the feeling of bien-être. The harmony's just perfect between the narrator-poetess and the person whose privilege it is to share this moment with her/you: a foretaste of eternity in this timeless ritual.

Very beautiful.