Understanding
“It’s just a cup” he says
Baffled by the reverence with which I lift it to my lips.
“It’s more than a cup” I start to say but then I stop.
It’s impossible to explain.
How can I put into words
the bubble of joy that rises as I raise
the cup in my hands?
The happiness that flows through my veins
as the coffee flows over my tongue?
It’s only coffee in a cup.
But do you see how the handle
fits my thumb and fingers perfectly?
And how the lip of the cup
is fine although the cup is weighty?
It’s a big cup,
I’m in France when I drink from it ,
with a croissant in my hand.
Do you see how the yellow of the handle
is the colour of sunflowers?
And the green round the lip
is like the newest green of spring?
And the patterns of red and blue
are like Spirograph and looking at them
I’m a child again with coloured biros
and plastic wheels and endless days of possibilities?
See how the pattern round the rim
dances and blurs as I dip
my mouth to kiss the coffee.
Dancing eyes blur when we taste a lover’s lips.
It’s so much more than a cup.
And I had to look in so many
Tescos and Asdas and Morrisons and Sainsburys
and even charity shops
before I found the right one.
And every morning when I open the cupboard
And see it on the shelf
It makes me excited for the day,
When I heat the milk and add the coffee
I am with Dad again as he teaches me
To boil the milk in the pan.
It’s a cup full of memories
It took a lifetime to fill
If you don’t understand
I don’t think you ever will.
Wendy Bowers
2.6.18
“It’s just a cup” he says
Baffled by the reverence with which I lift it to my lips.
“It’s more than a cup” I start to say but then I stop.
It’s impossible to explain.
How can I put into words
the bubble of joy that rises as I raise
the cup in my hands?
The happiness that flows through my veins
as the coffee flows over my tongue?
It’s only coffee in a cup.
But do you see how the handle
fits my thumb and fingers perfectly?
And how the lip of the cup
is fine although the cup is weighty?
It’s a big cup,
I’m in France when I drink from it ,
with a croissant in my hand.
Do you see how the yellow of the handle
is the colour of sunflowers?
And the green round the lip
is like the newest green of spring?
And the patterns of red and blue
are like Spirograph and looking at them
I’m a child again with coloured biros
and plastic wheels and endless days of possibilities?
See how the pattern round the rim
dances and blurs as I dip
my mouth to kiss the coffee.
Dancing eyes blur when we taste a lover’s lips.
It’s so much more than a cup.
And I had to look in so many
Tescos and Asdas and Morrisons and Sainsburys
and even charity shops
before I found the right one.
And every morning when I open the cupboard
And see it on the shelf
It makes me excited for the day,
When I heat the milk and add the coffee
I am with Dad again as he teaches me
To boil the milk in the pan.
It’s a cup full of memories
It took a lifetime to fill
If you don’t understand
I don’t think you ever will.
Wendy Bowers
2.6.18
