Breakfast For One Poem by Martin Swords

Martin Swords

Tiglin, Wicklow, Ireland

Breakfast For One

Rating: 4.9

Breakfasts were special.
Two plates.
Two eggs.

Cup and saucer.
Egg and spoon.
Salt and pepper.

Kind people ask.
I cannot tell.
There are no words.
At breakfast

One plate is lonely.
The egg is spoiled.

No pepper.
I never liked it.

Only the salt is set.
Only the sharp taste.

Martin Swords
April 2008

Donall Dempsey 30 August 2008

Very powerful poem made even more so by its perfect compostion and almost painfully quiet understatement. Very moving and almost unbearable with the might of what isn't with what is. Simple chilling imagery that delinetes the loneliness with painfully precise detail and the sharp tang of loss. Perfect poem. love Donall Donall

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Roy Storey 30 August 2008

Its some times nice to have breakfast alone, vut not all the time. a nice poem

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annie okia 02 October 2008

So sad, so lonely, so beautiful.........we are meant to live in pairs. alana

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M Asim Nehal 18 January 2016

A painful truth in your poem is much enjoyable.

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Alison Cassidy 25 July 2009

This is superb, Martin. There is so much pain lurking between the lines. I particularly like your last line. A fine example of 'less is more'. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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Adeline Foster 08 June 2009

Succinct and to the point. Descriptive beyond portrait. Adeline

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Duh Huh 06 June 2009

I agree with Fay totally, all the way to... an unforgettabable read. Thank you for sharing :)

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Fay Slimm 16 November 2008

So simple, such paucity of word, and all carefully chosen for the effect wanted. A sad and lonely statement... an unforgettable read.

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Martin Swords

Tiglin, Wicklow, Ireland
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