Cream

Thinking about how coffee
is better with cream,
and some people make
our lives better 
just because.

The reason poets overuse tired metaphors is that they work,
they're true, and nowhere is that more correct than you,
the cream poured in the coffee of my dreams or (what I often think
of India) the tea enjoyed each afternoon. Clear liquid of my life,
transparent open book for anyone to look inside and see the person
I have always tried to be, undone by who I am become with you.
This murky passion of deliciousness, a smoothness calming every
nerve, uncertainty. Not every pie requires whipped cream but
I'm the better for it,  piping peach topped with a flaky crust, I lust
for the enigma that is cool, sweet cream to contrast every bite. I
am the other substance, whether coffee, tea, or pie or cheap hot
chocolate mix to make it more worthwhile, and you are cream.
Some other connotations come to mind but I decline to
share a sharper, deeper look into the metaphor, into the cup
that is my heart and soul.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2017

Water Wins

A Facebook question, prompting me to think and muse:

"Control the water or the fire-- which would you choose?"

Stay away from anyone who posted "fire" : my sage advice.

A budding pyro lurks within, to put it briefly, or concise.

Because despite the premise that no answer's right or wrong

just op'ning up your psyche, and pulling friends along

into a better understanding with a scheme that claims "ad hoc,"

it's totally and utterly, a total, utter crock.

Control the water and you've got it all, a dog upon a leash.

Fire can't control the water, just the opposite. Capisce?

The earth is mostly water. And people, sixty-odd percent!
In any contest, Facebook friends, it's water that will win.

(c) Ellen Gillette 2017