Ghost in My Cup
Everyday he swims in my cup addicted to my coffee
Ghost in My Cup
Steam rises like a story
a ghost born from heat and hope
arms wide, eyes bright
haunting the morning calm.
He whispers through the coffee
of lives half-lived, dreams half-sipped
his voice is sugar, soft and slow
his soul made of caffeine and laughter.
I drink, and he dances
between the warmth and the wake
a spirit with no sorrow
just a taste for company.
Someone asked the little ghost
if he screams to scare the tired
he smiled and said kindly
no, I only shout to help
them wake up on time.
When the cup runs empty
he waves a smoky goodbye
and I smile, because even ghosts
need somewhere to start the day.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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When Big Bands Played on every station 📻
When big bands ruled the world, with live broadcast each night. A slow world. A sentimental world. A world that believed in God. In LOVE. A world after the war that appreciated the small things, the community and most importantly family above all else. What a beautiful world that was of values. If we could only add progression to old school morality then maybe one would have less suffering. A book I read often from the 1950 states “if suffering made the world wise, a wise world it would be” after the world wars what a wise world we were becoming. If progression could meet slowness, like the Italian say “the art of doing nothing” what a peaceful world we would have. Big Bands brought in peace in a time the world didn’t know the end, each night the news goes off, did a love one die? Is your family now just a Jayne or Joe doe somewhere out there? Well forget your troubles we are all in this together- here is Glenn Miller and his Big Bands singing it’s a blue world, the moonlight serenade begins for a hour where you forget your troubles and melt in with the big band. Once the war was over those late night broadcasts became coming home dances. For a moment to me that was a beautiful world. Radio Days. Glenn miller and his orchestra playing live lifting spirits. A beautiful world that must had been for that moment. To be alive and to be appreciative of every second God Has given you.
By La Regina💗Kallie Venturini❤️a day ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Regular or De-cafe. Who needs a ghost on a caffeine high. Good job.