(Poem 63 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

There’s a tempest in my teacup
that I don’t know how to quell
despite attempts to cool the storm
and break the awful spell.

Sometimes I simply tarry awhile,
take time to make some toast;
eventually things settle down-
no more than an hour at most.

Believe me, I wish I knew a way
to keep things calm and still,
but once my tea begins to roar
no one can oppose its will.

Perhaps someday my tea will learn
to behave like a proper cup,
but until then I’ll gently stir,
wait for peace and drink up.

@Home Studio – 63^rd poem of the year