Climate Change

Ice cream drips down my fingers
Spilling onto my napkin
The cone wrinkles
Folded edges
Weep and fall
My teeth tingle still
With each flavorful bite
What was solid and sturdy
Quickly morphs into
A scrambled swirl
Now contained
It no longer stands alone

Elevated passion
Boils, then simmers
Mellows as a receding tide
Once dessert came sweetened
Now we feast
On the savory
Changes come in degrees Tuesdays prompt is to write a poem depicting ones temperature without using the word. Metaphoric, I enjoyed working this one out. Hope it meets the bar!

About Mary (tqhousecat)

I am a wife and a mother of two grown children. I love Jesus and sharing my faith through written words. I currently have a poetry blog and also write on My main focus is hope in Christ. I only wish that whoever reads this will be blessed, inspired and occasionally amused.
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5 Responses to Climate Change

  1. robtkistner says:

    This is a delicious piece of poetry Mary ā€” I enjoyed it! šŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  2. lillian says:

    Great description of what happens to that delectable ice cream cone in searing heat…especially the cone! Love the shift achieved in the second stanza.


  3. Frank Hubeny says:

    It must be really hot when the cone wrinkles.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ha! I think the cone wrinkles because of the melting ice cream!


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