A Tea Party



On a cold day soon,
Too cold to go outside,
In a 11 x 11 kitchen,
A table in the middle,
A lady in old sweats
Will gather tea bags,
Hang them into a Mr. Coffee,
And make a pot of tea.
She will turn the radio on
As often times before,
Open a book at the table,
And moon abstractedly
Out a sweaty window.
Cozy it will be, but
Something will be missing!


The lady in old sweats,
Will change into a silky brocaded robe.
Then she'll slip on maribu trimmed slippers,
And find the china cup and saucer with the roses.
Seat herself in a lounging chair.


Alone she will sip her tea,
Remembering when you were there.
Alone she will have her scone,
Tho from Safeway and not her own.
Alone she'll not read a book,
Though leave the music playing,
She'll daydream of teas gone by,
When you danced with her
While children slept.
And she'll be a lady once more.
On a cold day soon.


 

© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)



Grandma And A Cuppa Tea



My Irish Grandma had a solution to any problem in the world.....Cuppa Tea. Not that the tea itself solved anything but the offer of it worked wonders. There were moments where her kitchen was filled with people having a Cuppa Tea. Funerals were planned there as well as weddings, baptisms, confirmations and overdue grocery bills.

Her kitchen was the unofficial Doctor's Waiting Room. Symptoms and Diagnosis were discussed and whether or not it was serious to actually SEE the doctor. He charged $3 and he didn't give you a Cuppa Tea. She was also the underground divorce lawyer. Now this was a time when only movie stars got divorced and certainly NEVER a Catholic! She would share her "How to" advice with a distressed wife. She was more popular than the Priests at Saint Patrick's because they would tell you, "God knows what you have to do. Just be as good a wife as you want him to be a husband and offer the difference up to God." Her advice was more to the point and involved how to make sure that Johnnie goes to sleep early and doesn't start smacking you around. And you'd get your Cuppa Tea. When she first saw that new invention, the tea bag, she thought it might work for people who didn't know how to make REAL tea nor did they know how to read the leaves in the bottom of the cup and predict the future with them. She did that too but always left out the parts that she thought would be too distressing.

My Mom knew how to read tea leaves and she taught me. She also told me, "This isn't something that the church thinks people should do, so if you go to confession say that part sort of fast." I wondered how Mom knew about that? Probably wisdom imparted over a Cuppa Tea.

 

© By Swampetta(SWAMPETTA@aol.com)



Clem's Effie Lou Has A Tea Party



“You are what, did I hear you correctly?” Clem asked as he arose from the table ready to face the new day. The newspaper read, the comics studied, and comments made relative to the editorial page. “You are what?”

Effy Lou shook her head. “You hear me right, you durned old coot. Yes, the girls are coming over about eight-thirty for tea.” She saw the bumfuzzled look on her husband’s face. “I told you last week and I told you yesterday, now git out of here. I got things to do".

Effy did not really care for it, but four women she used to work with wanted to come to tea. Not coffee, but specifically tea. She shook her head as she cleared the table. “All they want to do is to see the house, the house we have been living in for five years. Where were you five years ago?” She set about her tasks at hand.

Meanwhile, Clem had wandered out in the yard, inspecting the leaves and thinking about when he would have to rake them. “Ain’t no dad blamed reason to rake them until the trees are bare. Ain’t going to hurt nothing, nothing atall.”

Yesterday Effy Lou had cleaned, dusted, and put away all of the magazines and stuff that normally littered one end of the table. She had found her white German china tea pot and washed it. Then she dug out four good cups and saucers and had splurged and bought three different kinds of Wally Mart’s 99 cent cookies. She had gotten out the Revere Ware tea kettle and polished it up.

The four ladies showed up: Tara B, Nancy K, Jeanie and Connie K, all dressed as if they were ready to clean house. They converged and sat down at the dining room table while Effy put out sugar, cream, milk and artificial sweetener. She put out regular and decaf instant coffee containers and three canisters of tea.

It took a whole five minutes to find out what had happened since they quit work, well part of them had quit work. At ten to twelve they left, having eaten all three packages of cookies, filled themselves on coffee and tea, and oh yes, lordy yes, they had gone over the house top to bottom, even looking in the closets.

When the ladies left, Effy Lou took her empty cup and filled it to the brim with her favorite wine. She drank it down, filled it again. She put all the dirty stuff in the dishwasher and put away everything, as she finished off the second cup of wine.

About a quarter after, Clem came back in the house for lunch. “Well love, how did the high and mighty tea party go?” He knew how it had gone though, by the expression on his her face.

“Oh it went fine, but never again. Just Nancy and Connie wanted to see the house, yet they did not have guts to say so.” Effy looked up at Clem. “It was so great. I am on my third cup of wine. You think I am in my cups?”

© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)





Tea? Me? I don't think so



Tea I drink when I am sick
Hot and steaming to relieve my pain
I load it up with honey and lemon
Then pour it down the drain.


A cuppa coffee suits me
Icy cold or strong and hot
Nothing's better than Starbuck's coffee
Grande, please, make me a pot.


But tea is okay, it really is
If served with a crumpet or scone
I'd rather have a cup of java
And that's the end of my poem.


© By Frannie (Frannie516@comcast.net)





Read The Tea Leaves



Don't cry over spilt tea
But it has stained the rug
Read the tea leaves
Don't look so darn smug


Singing 'Tea For Two'
And singing it out loud
But voice is off key
Chasing away the crowd


Wearing a white T shirt
While sipping green tea
Playing Saturday golf
And missing the Tee


Dotting your I's and
Crossing your T's
Getting stung on your nose
By a small bumble bee


On a cold winter day
Watching shows on TV
Warming the body
By drinking hot Tea


© By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)





Tea





She carefully set each place,
Saucer, cup and silverware,
A pleasant smile on her face,
For play acting, she had flare.


“Sugar or lemon?” she’d ask,
So eager to please each guest.
Then began the pouring task,
The part that she liked the best.


At times, she would serve dessert,
On the special little plates,
Perhaps cupcakes or sherbert,
She’d set before her playmates.


Quite fragile was the tea set,
Yet each piece was still like new.
Afternoons, she and “friends” met,
Usually around two.


A tea party, they were told,
Imagined guests pleased to attend,
Though tea was always served cold,
No matter, ‘twas just pretend.


© By Rick Mack (Rmrickmack@aol.com)




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