%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   A poem a day keeps the cobwebs off my keyboard. |
| It starts with a gurgle, as if it would choke, then it bubbles a bit, so I start to hope - but nothing comes out, no, not yet. A minute a cup? I’ll take that bet. In the icy morning air, a bit of steam, but still from the spout there is no stream. The pot is still empty and so is my cup - I begin to wonder why I even got up. Maybe a pot never boils if you watch it. The coffee may brew if it thinks I forgot it. So, I turn my head and whistle a tune, Andy Griffith Show, but still too soon. To the coffee’s appearance I pretend to not even care, and to the toaster attend. I adjust the dial, and brush up the crumbs. I’ve been standing so long, my leg is numb. I know that it’s working, the light is on. Oh, a drip! a drop! it’s just plopped upon, the lid of the pot and now it’s dripped through! There’s one hundredth of my coffee brewed. 20 Lines Written for "PromptMaster !"  Task Prompt: Write a poem that makes the reader wait. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
