At night, when time ripples
into pools of providence,
my heart pauses to reflect
on the tea leaves contained
in a small, white teabag.
Condensation beading-up on
the sides of the mug. I take a sip
of the hot liquid relishing the warm,
comfort as it slides down my throat.
I think of you sitting alone
at your kitchen table sipping
a glass of white wine. Your libido
resurrected at the unbidden thought
of my tender caress, my passionate kiss.
You are my favorite cup of tea,
your condensation beading-up around
my needy heart. I sip you slowly
as I would a Wild Horse Chardonnay
or a saucy red, Kendall Jackson Merlot.
Your warm love sending pulsing
waves of heat through my soul.
I relish each tempting moment,
each time the river of your love
washes over this trembling body.
And, I think of how fortunate
your wine glass is--to know the softness
of your lips upon its glassy rim,
to know the tender intensity
of your fingers upon its slender stem.
