Saturday, December 4, 2010

A Sonnet For My Tea Mug

I'm ill; the world shrinks tightly; I feel old
And, aching, pace the smallest space I may.
Some moments it's all I can do to hold
A mug of tea. When such times come my way
I dote especially on this one here,
Made just for me by one who loved me well,
But didn't know he'd done so, 'til by mere
And funny chance, I saw it, gave a yell
Of praise and picked it up. It fit my hands
Precisely; all its gnurls and furrows placed
Just where my fingers reach - just as if planned
For me. And, too, though it is plainly based
On any mug, it feels like it was found
Instead of made. I'll e'er keep it around.

6 comments:

  1. You gotta do something about that immune system, babe!
    Meanwhile, feel better and enjoy your tea (and the container in which it comes)!
    Best,
    Dia

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  2. P.S. But, personally, if I were you, I'd forget the tea...
    Drink some garlic soup and wash it down with vodka - that, my girl, will cure what ails ya!
    Trust me, I'm Russian. ;-)
    D

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  3. I agree with dia sobin.

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  4. Alas, my Dia, one's immune system is not a closed system and no matter how strong it is, repeated assaults from folks showing up for work when they should be home keeping cooties to themselves take their toll.

    My Paul: hast hit it, as always. It is quite a gnarled and organic-looking piece of ceramic art, isn't it? The photo doesn't do it justice; I've been trying to get a good shot of it for years.

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  5. My Kate, two words: Echinacea/Goldenseal... I've been swallowing them for years and germs seem to avoid me. Then again, I'm not exposed to humans on a daily basis - so, maybe that's it! Maybe you should try a "Michael Jackson" and wear a surgical mask to work - that might get your point across!
    ;-)
    D

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Again, sorry about the Captcha, but the spam comments are getting out of hand.

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