My spoon circles the coffee
Breaking cinnamon art
Allowing foam to sit on my tongue
savouring creamy sweet

The melodious French voice
wafts over raisin toast and latte
Speaking fluently, her hands twist
and turn gracefully as she speaks

In days past I knew him
robust, a giant of a man
His height a commanding presence
I called him teddy bear, back then
always cuddly, always smiling
Family friend with softly spoken words

The laminate table shares the bowl
of hot chips, breakfast or is it lunch
no time frame for pensioners
Combinations of the young walk past
Stripes and spots
leopard print with lemon
The beast would cringe

The elderly man comes closer in view
His walker supporting his limping body
frail and thin, head of grey, brown corduroys
Sunken cheeks, no smile
Recognition in the moment, a familiar face
teddy bear feebly steps
Madame pulls out her compact straightens her fringe
Chips are air blown cool between them and
he walks slowly past

Copyright JMTacken 16.7.14

Inside lives (Prose)

within confines of the glass his world swirls
luminous bar, reflects gelled hair,  bowed 
heavy on the wood, clenched fists, wedding ring
he’s not old, not a kid
first impression, judgements passed
others make the call
problem with booze, fight with the wife
lost the high dollar job
quietly slurs  ~ “another”
bartender nods, been a regular, last few weeks
as stares held within the glass
headlights caught in blocks of ice
no-ones know his life, not you not I
moment stands still
his son’s giggling echoes  ~ taunts in his ears
car tyres splash
~ the thump
the silence
a winter’s night, car uncontrolled
his life now void of young laughter
©jmtacken 28 Feb 2014
With a nudge from Brian I share this with dversepoets   Brian has us developing characters in our poetry today.  Come join the fun – write, read others and comment – as that’s what we do! 🙂

Hidden under Linen (Prose)


past the table, folded napery
alongside the window, you sit
a Cafe, worn rustic floorboards
the solid against decorated lace
gazing deep in thought
I watch, glasses raised, across a room
full of bodies busy with their own

romantic encounters
secret liasons
a salute to erotic novelty ahead
presents itself, to my right
I can only smile
not knowing thoughts
of young lovers, legs draped
hidden under linen

you smile in my direction
a natural arrangement
of your features
the room quiet
for split seconds in time
as eyes meet

are you waiting for someone
glancing at me, the polite smile
traded between strangers
whose eyes met
at the same time
you, extravagantly handsome
I sit, as if on the edge of a desert
craving salt from your lips

©jmtacken Feb 25 2014