Thursday, January 30, 2014
The Plain House is moving and will become Black Tea Cup
My friends,
For nearly a year now you have come over to my house, The Plain House, to share in my thoughts and poetry, as well as the thoughts and poetry of other very talented writers. I am exceedingly grateful for all of your comments and positive well-wishes--your response has been overwhelming. However, I believe that all good things must come to an end at some point in time, and for The Plain House, that time is near. But the good news is that I have already started a new website that will pick up right where The Plain House left off. That new website is called Black Tea Cup, and can be found here: http://www.blackteacup.com/.
Black Tea Cup will continue the poetic tradition of The Plain House under the "Black Tea for the Heart" heading--you will still be able to find the same unique collection of poetry you are used to finding here on The Plain House. Black Tea Cup will also have a series of writings on thoughtful subjects under the "Black Tea for the Mind" heading. You can also get original recipes under the "Black Tea for the Body" heading, and a series of unique, public domain pictures are available under the "Black Tea for the Soul" heading.
So please, don't be sad. Now that you've spent some time with me at The Plain House, won't you stay for a cup of black tea?
Please update your bookmarks and visit me at Black Tea Cup. If you like what you see on Black Tea Cup, please consider subscribing.
Sincerely,
Scott Granberg-Rademacker
Founder of The Plain House and Black Tea Cup
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
A ribbon in your hair
I tied a ribbon
in your hair,
you asked me
to pull it tight.
A lock of curls
did not dare,
outshine it
in golden light.
The simple thread
will not fall,
because its
fastened with might.
Oh simple bandeau
hang on well,
for you hold
my heart's delight.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
The forest in January
The trees lay bare
under the white blanket.
Naked and lonesome
in the chilly frost.
Unexpected
they were when I arrived here.
No other footsteps
sought their company.
Labels:
Beauty,
Friendship,
Hope,
Philosophy,
Poetry,
Reverie,
Sorrow
Monday, December 30, 2013
The druid sleeps
Reborn in the spring
with the first thaw.
Renewed in spirit
winter withdraw.
But for now we wait
with candle lit.
Under the blankets
of woven knit.
Sleeping under snow
roots running deep.
The druid's heart rests
in peaceful sleep.
-Scott
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Holiday lights
Candles bright
shining forth
in the night.
Darkness pushed
outside lines
as you wished.
Golden dawning
hand-in-hand
past the awning.
-Scott
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Candy land
A gloppy of white frosting
on the licorice trees.
Stuck on this space
near the snowflake lake.
The gumdrop pass
just closed for the winter.
Still the crows visit our lollipop woods
via the sky's rainbow trail.
Me? I'm surveying a chilly peppermint forest
from my warm candy castle.
-Scott
Friday, November 29, 2013
In the dawning
In the dawning
of the new day
possibilities awake.
In the warming
of the morning sun
opportunities to take.
-Scott
Thursday, November 28, 2013
A turkey's thanksgiving
Turkeys in the bush
have reason to give thanks.
Avoiding humans
and spending time with family.
Huddled close
keeping out of sight.
Living for today
thankful for tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
The old swing
When you sit with me
and I creak and settle
that's friendship.
When you push off of the ground
with both feet
that's commitment.
When you laugh at the wind
with whiplash in your hair
that's joy.
When you close your eyes
because you've gone too high
that's excitement.
When you leap off in midair
with the ground below
that's freedom.
When you think of me and smile
years from now
that's happiness.
-Scott
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Acorns
Tiny acorns
grow into
grand oaks.
Small babies
grow into
brave leaders.
Cloudy dreams
grow into
sweeping ideals.
Someday I'll
grow into
my own skin.
-Scott
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Big miracles
Each day we are alive
is not a small miracle
in the grand scheme of life.
Each day we are alive
it is a big miracle
in a small package.
-Scott
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Waiting for you
I'd wait for your
in the depths of despair.
I'd wait for you
amidst all my cares.
I'd wait for you
when the shadows grow long.
I'd wait for you
until the end of the song.
I'd wait for you
though the world falls apart.
I'd wait for you
with love in my heart.
I'd wait for you
at the end of the maze.
I'd wait for you
to the end of my days.
-Scott
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
The brass horn
I used to play
the brass horn
in the marching band.
I used to walk
heel-to-toe
looking up at the stand.
Now the horn sits
a decoration
still bright and proud and grand.
Should I try a tune?
A single note?
It fits so naturally in my hand.
-Scott
Friday, November 15, 2013
The news
Tell me please
oh what news!
Has the world
caught the blues?
What you heard
what you saw!
Has the mayor
broken the law?
What you spoke
and what you read!
Has the news
gone to our head?
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Vicenza
The woman cried out, in joy, in pain.
Feeling all alone in her work, but knowing the value.
Health, and spirit, her only desire.
The birth of a future, the making of a queen.
The woman did not know the value of this little girls future, only the little girl.
The lives she would touch, the love she would find, the hurt she would encounter.
The husband that would find her, the children she would bear.
The home of dreams, that she alone would create.
The woman did not know these things.
November 14th, 1974, in a chilly northern Italy.
My beloved was born, and waited for me.
Feeling all alone in her work, but knowing the value.
Health, and spirit, her only desire.
The birth of a future, the making of a queen.
The woman did not know the value of this little girls future, only the little girl.
The lives she would touch, the love she would find, the hurt she would encounter.
The husband that would find her, the children she would bear.
The home of dreams, that she alone would create.
The woman did not know these things.
November 14th, 1974, in a chilly northern Italy.
My beloved was born, and waited for me.
-Aaron
Inner dialogue
Who are you?
And who am I?
We do our best.
Of course we try!
But how are you?
And how am I?
A little depressed?
Do you want to cry?
What are you?
and what am I?
A little stressed?
Then let it fly!
But why you?
And why me?
Have we been blessed?
In time we'll see.
-Scott
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Distorted water
The glass
is half-full
but it distorts
my vision.
The water
bends the light
and clouds
my eyes.
The glass
is half-empty
that is
no different.
I prefer
an empty glass
so I can
see clearly.
-Scott
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Fools Gold
To dream the dream of noble kings,
and live the life they lead,
the jester plays the fool for them
to drink their cup of mead.
Late at night as he retires
to hide behind closed door,
wipes the smile from his face,
and rains tears on the floor.
They'll not know his secret wish
to sit before their fire,
have these fools he must attend
kneel down and call him sire.
-Rusty
Monday, November 11, 2013
Patience
I patiently wait
for you to return.
Don't take to long
I've energy to burn.
I may be young
my heart an open book.
But you can lift my spirits
with a single look.
-Scott
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