Poetry Break: Wedding Feast

Yeah, I know that it's not really time for another poetry break, but yesterday's post took me so long to craft that I need a break anyway.

So ... here it is, from a far different time and distant place:

Wedding Feast

Alas ... to drink my bitter cup
before it overruns and stains
by that dark liquid it contains;
yet still the steward fills it up,
unheedful of my troubled stare,
until its bubbling at the rim
portends embarrassment for him.
He stops, and sets the beaker there
beside the problem he has made --
a subtle smile upon his face
suggests that probable disgrace
awaits me in this trap he's laid.

With trembling hands, I raise the cup
to bring it gently to my lips
as though within my mind I slipped
into erotic dreams of love
and what were at my fingertips
were my sweet loved one's face.
Mysteriously, with fluid grace,
I kiss the glass through frequent sips
and watch my apparition's faint
reflection in this lover's eye
until these sensual visions lie
quite empty ... dregs alone remain.

Horace Jeffery Hodges
Copyright 1984