I can only dance with my fingers wielding a pen,
play with colors I see in my mind,paint with words haply as a child.
I like your ode to a cup. As often as I hold one, I can certainly understand a poetic, almost inspirational, attachment. Little picky problems here though. I think you missed your count. I get this syllable count 9,7,6,6,5,4,3,2,1 - so you might want to re-work lines two and three. And for a little assimilation and internal rhyme I might suggest "grounds" rather than "bits" in line two; but that's just me. It's your poem, but that would pull the "swirl" and the two uses of "round" together, I think, creating a symmetry in the poem as a whole. Thank you so much for writing and linking today. Gay
almost like you don't want those images to swirl away from you. nice nonet. hope you got out of your cubicle and got some real live sunshine the other day when you left your comment on my blog. Thanks :)
Enjoyed it... and some times its all that you need to do to 'be' ... use all your senses to to see... the reality...Thanks for joining in the Poetry Potluck WK 43 which I am hosting for the first time… hope you have liked it too…. and wish to see you again…Shashiॐ नमः शिवायOm Namah Shivayahttp://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/07/whispers-cuckoos-song-and-smell-of-love.htmlAt Twitter @VerseEveryDay