Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tidbit:

I wish we could sit down together,
And have a cup of tea,
But since we can’t
When you have this one,
I hope you’ll think of me.
                  — Author Unknown

 

Today’s poem is an original limerick, written for a school assignment by my youngest son.

There was an old dragon with bad eyes,
Who couldn’t see anything of great size.
If his mate was in a healthy mood,
She would help him get food;
Which was usually barbecued flies.

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

“There is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a chest of tea.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

an extract

i. in which the cartographer explains himself

You might say
my job is not
to lose myself exactly
but to imagine
what loss might feel like –
the sudden creeping pace,
the consultation with trees and blue
fences and whatever else
might prove a landmark.
My job is to imagine the widening
of the unfamiliar and also
the widening ache of it;
to anticipate the ironic
question: how did we find
ourselves here? My job is
to untangle the tangled,
to unworry the concerned,
to guide you out from cul-de-sacs
into which you may have wrongly turned.

ii. in which the rastaman disagrees

The rastaman has another reasoning.
He says – now that man’s job is never straight-
forward or easy. Him work is to make thin and crushable
all that is big and as real as ourselves; is to make flat
all that is high and rolling; is to make invisible and wutliss
plenty things that poor people cyaa do without – like board
houses, and the corner shop from which Miss Katie sell
her famous peanut porridge. And then again
the mapmaker’s work is to make visible
all them things that shoulda never exist in the first place
like the conquest of pirates, like borders,
like the viral spread of governments

iii.

The cartographer says
no –
What I do is science. I show
the earth as it is, without bias.
I never fall in love. I never get involved
with the muddy affairs of land.
Too much passion unsteadies the hand.
I aim to show the full
of a place in just a glance.

iv.

The rastaman thinks, draw me a map of what you see
then I will draw a map of what you never see
and guess me whose map will be bigger than whose?
Guess me whose map will tell the larger truth?

by Kei Miller

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tidbit is a bit unusual. I want to share a new tea item that someone gave me as a gift. It’s a wonderful little plastic pot with a built-in loose leaf tea strainer. You can put up to 12 oz. of water in it with your loose leaf tea, then heat it in the microwave, then let it steep. When ready, you fit the pot over your tea cup or mug and the there’s a piece on the bottom that lifts when on the cup, and the tea pours down into your cup but doesn’t let any of the loose tea into the cup of tea. It’s a wonderfully easy way to make a cup of loose leaf tea.

Called Back
by Emily Dickinson

Just lost when I was saved!
Just felt the world go by!
Just girt me for the onset with eternity,
When breath blew back,
And on the other side
I heard recede the disappointed tide!

Therefore, as one returned, I feel,
Odd secrets of the line to tell!
Some sailor, skirting foreign shores,
Some pale reporter from the awful doors
Before the seal!

Next time, to stay!
Next time, the things to see
By ear unheard,
Unscrutinized by eye.

Next time, to tarry,
While the ages steal,–
Slow tramp the centuries,
And the cycles wheel.

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tidbit:

The daintiness and yet elegance of a china teacup focuses one to be gentle, to think warmly, and to feel close.
Carol and Malcolm Cohen

 

Ode to Enchanted Light
by Pablo Neruda

Under the trees light
has dropped from the top of the sky,
light
like a green
latticework of branches,
shining
on every leaf,
drifting down like clean
white sand.

A cicada sends
its sawing song
high into the empty air.

The world is
a glass overflowing
with water.

translated by Ken Krabbenhoft

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tidbit:

I am sort of a tea addict. I structure my day by cups of tea.  —  S. T. Joshi

A Real Book
by Kelly F. Barr

Ah, the feel of a real book —
The smooth eye-catching cover,
The crisp or brittle pages.
The smell of new paper and fresh ink
Or yellowed paper scented with age
And maybe a bit of mustiness.
These are my treasures —
Each one taking me on a grand adventure
Or teaching me something new
Or introducing me to a new person or place;
They allow me to travel anytime, anywhere
To times past, present, or future;
To places near, far, or simply imagined.
The characters becoming friends —
My desire that the story never end.
My favorite most comfortable place
Is in a room surrounded by shelves of books;
A cozy place filled with stories I’ve read
Or have yet to explore.
No matter my age or social status,
As long as I have my real books
I’ll feel like a queen in her palace.

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tip:

Tea absorbs moisture. Be sure to store loose leaf tea bags in a tin or sealed jar.

Aspiration
by Emily Dickinson

We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
Our statures touch the skies.

The heroism we recite
Would be a daily thing,
Did not ourselves the cubits warp
For fear to be a king.

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tidbit:

“The cup of tea on arrival at a country house is a thing which, as a rule, I particularly enjoy. I like the crackling logs, the shaded lights, the scent of buttered toast, the general atmosphere of leisured coziness.”

P. G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters

 

A Patch of Old Snow

by Robert Frost

There’s a patch of old snow in a corner
That I should have guessed
Was a blow-away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.

It is speckled with grime as if
Small print overspread it,
The news of a day I’ve forgotten–
If I ever read it.