With cinnamon stick, she stirs to sip
to sip the apple cider mulled
while mulling over when your lips
your lips last grazed her own
Her own were rosy, apple-bit
the bit removed, the bridle off
Far off she galloped, now you sit
sit saddled and alone
Alone, and yet, when apples fall
in Fall she still takes heart and hopes
she hopes that you'll be back to taste
taste cinnamon and trace
The traces and the harnesses
for harness horses long to pull
the pully over blinders, wool
as woolly sulkies go
A contest entry
- Contest: Yankee Candle Titles by Mairi bheag.
900 points, ended November 9, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I love the taste and feel here. Lovely!
K
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There is something quirky about this wreath that just totally appeals to me. There's bittersweetness here, but it still makes me grin.
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This has a deliciously fall feel to it, and gallops along nicely.
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Yes, very good. I actually hate cinnamon. It makes me feel sick (& I have eaten Tindaloos).
I like scrumpy cider though.
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