Poetry is Like Cafe au lait

A sip~
the virgin sip
tastes flippant as froth,
as aroma of metaphors fill
nostrils of intrigue,

then stronger flavors
from steaming lines, apparently
porcelained in meter,
concocted by syllables
beckon with sugared promises
of imagery and rich verbiage,

every taste
is a nuance of discovery
as caffeine essence
of poetry flows in your veins
inspiring insomnia
of contemplation…