5/25/11

Dear tea


dear tea,
I drink of your dark liquid and drink
by inference of mother russia,
even though you came from east india,
were born in china, civilized in father england.
I drink of your black sea, and
by implication the spicy roses of
the middle east, that were the beds of the emperor,
the love potions of a medieval girl,
who would later marry a crusty old trader anyway,
a trader who sold among other things,
the powdered petals of a rose, in a poultice,
to cure ailments undefined, next to his
tin of tea, tied in a string on his belt,
and she would drink it when he loved her as a treat,
and sometimes the sneaky spell of rose
would creep into her sips, and she bent to
long ago, when she had childish hips
and slipped into the garden to pick a full-moon rose
and read the magic words with trembling lips,
and now her love had come in the form
of a man who knew nothing of dreams
or fluttering things in the night, but then
she smiled because he was hearty and
knew how to love her with only a cup of tea.

- Valerie Skinner

In the spirit of sharing more of my writing here is a poem, one I wrote quite awhile ago that is still one of my favorites.  Feel free to share my words, as long as you credit me and link back to my blog!

5 comments:

  1. Valerie, I love your poem and the image of the tea shimmering on the blue tile. I found you at my friend Anita's.

    Last day to enter my Serena and Lily Giveaway!

    xoxo
    Karena
    Art by Karena

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  2. Dear Valerie! I was completely caught up in the story! I went to the place, smelled the smells, felt the feelings, was embraced by the ambiance!
    I love it!
    :) ~Debbi

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  3. Thanks for the kind comments Karena and Debbi!

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  4. Love, Love, LOVE!! Had the feel of Paulo Cohelo meets and English romantic poet.. mmmmmm... what a heady aroma :)

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  5. I thought about this poem last night.. and it's completely bohemian, exotic, and lovely - it's YOUR voice and I love it!

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