Harmony Of Steam And Rain

Fumes from two cups blue;

Entangle with the trickling drops, a melody of the dampened air with the warm brew;

Orbs of golden, red;

Streetlights and dripping trees of jade;

The haze obscures all;

Like a peacock’s plumes, the steam billows; like a songbird of monsoon, the notes whisper and call.

An indigo evening;

Floral patterns on the chalice fading;

The soft chime on the glass tray by porcelain teaspoons;

Twine with the tinkling silver tunes;

Akin to waterfalls descending;

Beneath a diamond moon so chilling.

Reflections warped;

Roadways skidding, customers of the eatery usurped;

The frothing, foaming surface of chestnut brown;

The cheery, carefree whistle of the kettle loud, yet the spirits of the passers-by down.

Grim is the city beyond the window, distorted;

The cascade connecting the sky and the ground, one is being wooed by the other, courted;

Parasols rotating;

The liquid that is still not drunk, bubbling.

Faint slate fog from chimneys grey, rise and twist;

Disappearing into the mysteries of the end of the day, with the sapphire and onyx mist;

The vessels await upon a table; on the hearth many an ember;

Where are the owners of this house sombre? It’ll get cold; the coffee umber.