"tearoom" poems
I remember when we on that sunny afternoon
grabbed a Hanson to the Lyons tearooms
we were rather jolly and full of mischief
when in there you dropped your silk gloves
I bent down to pick them up, slowly you did lift your skirt
your legs did part, with a naughty devilish smile pert
We drank Earl Grey by the *** full
strawberry cream cakes with filling cool
laughing how extraordinary it was to find each other
both spirits of freedoms never forgotten
you pushed a cream cake in my face
and I got the cream down your blouse of lace
Then we started kissing and wanting more
that's when the staff showed us the door
and as we ran down the muddy cobbled road
you grabbed my arm and said let's stop I'm cold
pulling me in with eyes of wanton lust
you had your way with me at last
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
The flavor of lemons is bitter -
That’s why I don’t need the mints;
I locked away your blue sweater
With the lint still on the pillow.
I looked into the sea and saw the stars
Saltier than the tears and the lemon ****
We shared in the tearoom on that last Sunday –
There is a dry blue rose in the closet all pressed and crumbling.
Blind agony stumbles in frustration; your presents are my poison -
Now the porcelain needs dusting, the Valentines are jumbling.
May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC
In the tearoom, we pretend
to be good friends – in turn
we bounceball our days
If only I could make contact
but with words, it doesn't work
Our hands are close together
We gaze outside
it can't be explained
although we understand
And that already comes too close
Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 4:01 AM UTC