Quotes about sip, page 3
We Sip The Wine
We sip the wine. We drink it slow.
We think by sipping the time won't go.
We try to make the moments last
but unlike the wine they move too fast.
Shall we have another or pretend to drink
and maybe have more time to think?
No drinking or thinking will ever be
enough of both for you and me.
So we sip the wine. We drink it slow
and with these gestures we both do know
it's over.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Wine Of Love
We take a sip of the wine
that runs through our lives.
The wine of love most purest
that comes from the tenderest grapes
upon the vine.
We sip a little each day
praying it will never go away.
The wine of love
that runs through our lives each day.
Providing the vine doesn’t whither
our love will become fulfilled
with love forever after
our cup is empty and bare.
19 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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Echoes Of Moments Together
She was gasping for air
And left this morn.
I had to brush my teeth,
She was in the mirror
And in my eyes.
I had to sip my tea,
She was with me
Plunging deeper with every sip.
All through the rituals
She kept clinging to me
With every motion
The grasp was tighter.
I went out to face the day
And there she was in the sun,
In the air, all over me.
She was a guest in my world,
A few moments' find,
Leaving echoes in my mind!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Amidst The Crowd, I Am A Pebble
i
the boy's band plays
country music
on deaf sounding guitars
ii
a few guests
do not have hands
their eyes
feast on the food served
by young girls
wearing ethnic
dresses
iii
the resto
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If
If I were a raindrop, and you were a leaf,
I would burst from the cloud above you
And lie on your breast in a rapture of rest,
And love you, love you, love you.
If I were a brown bee, and you were a rose,
I would fly to you, love, nor miss you;
I would sip and sip from your nectared lip,
And kiss you, kiss you, kiss you.
If I were a doe, dear, and you were a brook,
Ah, what would I do then, think you?
I would kneel by the bank, in the grasses dank,
And drink you, drink you, drink you.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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I Take the Fork
I take the fork,
And select what I choose to eat.
I sample the vegetables...
To then sip on juice or spring water.
I slice the meat with a knife.
I taste for seasoning.
To see if it pleases.
It does...
And I repeat.
I take the fork,
And select what I choose to eat.
I sample the vegetables...
To then sip on juice or spring water.
I slice the meat with a knife.
I taste for seasoning.
To see if it pleases.
It does...
And I repeat.
I might have dessert,
With coffee.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Savant
Slice the roast as we toast the savant.
Sip the wine and let's dine with cresçents.
A special honor is bestowed upon him.
The one with chosen 'gifts' within.
No clue he leaves he believes himself great!
But we must show him we at least appreciate...
The patience he has shown for the waste,
Average men like us create!
Slice this roast as we toast the savant!
Sip the wine and let us dine
With cresçents all we want!
A special honor comes to him...
He with unlimited patience
To allow us to feed,
From the treasures upon us he descends!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pleasures
a smooth flow of chivas regal
inside my throat lingering
but only for a while,
a white flower carried by this vine
on its soft tendrils crawling an iron fence
a trellis as lean-on
a salmon sushi bathed in soy bean sauce
and a fingerfull of wasabe
inside my tongue the chili running
towards me throat lingering and
rising in my nostrils in my brain
hot green tea that i sip
slowly
chopstick on top of a teriyake
a bowl of seafood ramen
its flavors rising to the lamps
of the ceiling
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Cup of Coffee
I start my day with coffee as my friend
The beans so fresh, as it blends
Giving out an aroma, that wakes me up
I stumble to the kitchen and look for the cup
I pour some black liquid and sip right away
I just want coffee, to start my day
Then on the road I'm on my way
Coffee is my friend to make my day
Stuck in traffic, I loose my mind
I then sip my coffee and just rewind
I get to work with a cup in hand
Juggling with papers I can't withstand
The coffee at work tastes bitter and cheap
But it's better than getting caught counting sheep
All day long, I make pot after pot
Of black steaming mugs of liquid gut-rot
Tanked up on coffee, I face the day
Taking anything that comes my way.
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Unoffensive and Comedic
Unoffensive and comedic.
That's how they prefer,
To sip upon truth.
With no hints of bitterness.
At least none that is directed.
To upset those already,
Traumatized by guilt.
And those who would rather not,
Review those wounds...
Knitted within a quilted smoozing.
To add a flavor that is scented,
To disguise the stench,
Of layered filth!
Care not to be reminded.
With a wish to leave these activities behind!
And left to maintain pretentions gained.
Built upon sustained fantasies.
And fed like nutritious milk!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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