Tempting muse, I can’t compare thee
To a rose or summer’s day,
For you’re more like dark roast coffee,
Deep and rich in every way.
And like mocha that’s been blended
In a bold Arabic cup,
Your dark beauty is just splendid
And I love to drink you up.
For you’re dark and you’re exotic,
Tantalizing to my taste,
And tremendously erotic
When your French vanilla laced.
And dark temptress, when I’m sipping
Your quintessence on my tongue,
So no single drop is dripping,
How I feel refreshed and young.
How your bold and rich aroma,
When I’m cold and comatose,
Serves to shake me from my coma,
Wakes me up when I’m morose,
Perks me up when I am moody,
And my weary eyes grow wide
When I drink in your dark beauty,
That so warms me deep inside.
And like black exotic java
Made from coffee beans they grow
East of Krakatoa’s lava,
Or the brown Brazilian Joe
That I daily sip and savor,
How your bold full-bodied heat,
And your dark romantic flavor,
Equally are bitter-sweet.
For my dear, when you’re departed
How my heart’s a hollow cup.
I have trouble getting started
Without you to pick me up.
How my hanging head starts aching
And I look a frightful sight.
I start shivering and shaking,
And I just can’t sleep at night.
I’m lethargic and I languish
And I agonize no end,
And I wish you’d quell my anguish
With your dark exotic blend.
For like spicy, black or creamy
Coffee that is piping hot,
Tasty muse, you’re like a steamy
Temptress in a coffee pot.
Author notes
Option Prompt: Coffee
What did you think
Comments
-
Well I think this is the first time I've ever read a poem comparing a beautiful woman to a cuppa - nicely done. Strong flow and captivating all the way through
Thank You for Your Entry
♥
Good Luck
Stay safe
~Manda
-
Wow
I never would have thought to compare a hot woman to a cup of coffee, but you have done it in such a way that the two seem an obvious comparison. I do relate however, to a beautiful woman being thought of as a drug, in this case wicked caffeine. I like to think of my obsession as the sweetest shot of morphine. Keep up the good work. I think I've found a new favorite.
-
I read your first stanza (Tempting muse, I can’t compare thee / To a rose or summer’s day, / For you’re more like dark roast coffee, / Deep and rich in every way. / And like mocha that’s been blended / In a bold Arabic cup, / Your dark beauty is just splendid / And I love to drink you up.)
And that reminded me of a West African woman I once picked up in a cinema - she was a very tasty piece of stuff in more than one sense. Nice one, Dave.
Adding your comment:
