The cup with its
saucer, a fine bone-china wedding gift,
The love-cup to
be drunk from, to heal any lover´s tiff,
Sip by warm sip,
of lives well lived & well & truly drunk,
Supped from &
slurped, with biscuits dipped & dunked.
Coffee, strong
tea, or hot chocolate with marshmallows,
Early morning
drinks, before the Sunday churchy hallows,
Baby´s first sips,
ice-tea & sympathy upon a summer porch,
Soup on winter
evenings, fragrant & boiling hot to scorch.
Washed & rinsed,
then washed all over again, this old cup,
Chipped now &
old-cracked with all the use & washing up,
It sits on the
wooden shelf, looking dejected, faded & sad,
But my old cup
of life stays; it was a gift from my old dad.
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