Red Stained Porcelain

Lips the color of satin roses,

Or dare I say blood red,

Danced along the edge of a teacup

She held so neatly in her hands.

 

It was empty, however,

Much like herself.

Fore she had long ago drained it of its contents,

The same way he had done so to her chest.

 

Still, there her painted mouth lingered,

Over that porcelain cup,

Hoping to feel warmth

From the tea, that she terribly missed from his touch.

Author's Note

I am in love with this, for some reason.

Tell me what you think! :)

Reviews

[Jordan's Back]

This poem Reminds me of an old story I heard. Its about a woman who purposely Chipped her teacup after her husband died in the hopes that The little she bled from her afternoon teas would put her one step closer to reuniting with her departed, This is a Warm, Cozy, yes Macabre poem and a Wonderful write. Excellent!

[devon]

Thank you, once more! :D

[jdr / Jennifer]

I am in love with this piece of work as well. It's a great write- wonderfully written, short & sweet, but says it all. Exquisite, unique, powerful & emotional- you truly have a talent for writing. Thank you for sharing this intricate piece of poetry.

'It was empty, however,
Much like herself.
she had long ago drained it of its contents,
The same way he had done so to her chest.'

[devon]

Thank you so much. It really and truly means the world when someone gives such a wonderful review on my writing.

[Miranda Richard]

How wonderful! Great job :)

[devon]

Thank you!!

[Phillitup]

I think this definitely has a sophisticated and eloquent air to it. Nicely penned!
Best regards,
Dell

[devon]

Thank you so much, Dell! :)

[Aly]

Nice

[devon]

Thank you!

[Aly]

Welcome! Keep Writing!

[devon]

I will!

[Dinesh Sairam]

"For she had". Pardon me for mentioning the mistake at first, that's just how I am. And I would have punctuated and capitalized the work differently.. consider it. I guess I have an OCD for pointing mistakes out, so never mind.

Otherwise, as I told you before, this is simple and sublime. It falls on the slim outline between imagination and reality. Very few here understand and love these kind of poems, let alone write one. They either get too philosophical, too real, or too surreal.

This is exactly how a contemporary poem should be. Poetry has slowly slipped from being a research material, an expert's job, to being more human and closer to reality. I hope this trend continues.

Keep writing.

[devon]

Thank you very, very much.

[Tegon Maus]

I can see why you're in love with it ! An interesting observation for someone so young

[devon]

Thank you :)

[PokeManiacRR]

At first when I read the title, I thought this was going to be about some ancient artifact of somesort, but then . . . it's actually a really great poem! Great work!

[devon]

I'm never really very good with coming up with titles! Haha, but thank you! :)

[♪The Girl Next Do..]

Wow! Incredible poem, I love how you always switch it up and use different explanations for the main parts of the poem, almost like a riddle! Great write!

[devon]

Thank you so much! :)

[♪The Girl Next Door♪]

No problem!

[devon]

Great work!

[Mary]

Your poem is a vivid painting... Love it

[devon]

Thank you!