Tea and Poetry

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

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He brewed his tea in a blue china pot, poured it into a chipped white cup with forget-me-nots on the handle, and dropped in a dollop of honey and cream. He sat by the window, cup in hand, watching the first snow fall. “I am,” he sighed deeply, “contented as a clam. I am a most happy man.”

Ethel Pochocki, Wildflower Tea

Moment of Strength
by Kelly F. Barr

I open the door and step outside
Where all is enveloped in white.
Everything’s clean in a sparkling tide,
Peaceful and silent to my delight.

O, for this moment to last a bit longer,
For such is a day of which I dream–
Where I can breathe and grow stronger
And live carefree, or so it would seem.

The silence is broken by delighted squeals.
Children pull sleds and leave a trail;
Amid a snowball fight, their laughter peals.
My moment’s gone. My spirit frail.

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

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Tea does our fancy aid, repress those vapors which the head invade, and keeps that palace of the soul serene.
-Edmund Waller
After the Earthquake
by Erica Jong

After the first astounding rush,
after the weeks at the lake,
the crystal, the clouds, the water lapping the rocks,
the snow breaking under our boots like skin,
& the long mornings in bed. . .

After the tangos in the kitchen,
& our eyes fixed on each other at dinner,
as if we would eat with our lids,
as if we would swallow each other. . .

I find you still
here beside me in bed,
(while my pen scratches the pad
& your skin glows as you read)
& my whole life so mellowed & changed

that at times I cannot remember
the crimp in my heart that brought me to you,
the pain of a marriage like an old ache,
a husband like an arthritic knuckle.

Here, living with you,
love is still the only subject that matters.
I open to you like a flowering wound,
or a trough in the sea filled with dreaming fish,
or a steaming chasm of earth
split by a major quake.

You changed the topography.
Where valleys were,
there are now mountains.
Where deserts were,
there now are seas.

We rub each other,
but we do not wear away.

The sand gets finer
& our skins turn silk.

Tea and Poetry

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“I like cups of tea and reading books and poetry and old people things.”

–Bindi Irwin

 

My Love of Creation
by Kelly F. Barr

I love the outdoors, no matter the season.
I’ll step outside for any reason;
To smell the rain or a flower;
The antics of a squirrel, over me, have power.

To look at the stars in the dark of night,
To view the colors of the sky at day’s first light;
To take a walk beneath the trees
Or in fascination, watch bumble or honey bees.

To sit on my deck and write while birds sing,
I do not know of a more delightful thing.
In the beauty of creation, I find peace
And my favorite form of stress release.

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tidbit:

“As the centerpiece of a cherished ritual, it’s a talisman against the chill of winter, a respite from the ho-hum routine of the day.”

Sarah Engler

 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake,
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tea Tidbit is a quote:

There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.
-Henry James

 

The Christmas Spirit
by Kelly F. Barr

Yesterday you filled your plate and overate;
The pumpkin pie tasted great!
Today you’re worried about a few extra pounds,
So you jog the block, round and round.

Then you’re off to the mall
Making sure not to skip a single hall;
Searching out those Black Friday deals
And thinking about the next holiday meal.

Next stop is the Christmas tree farm
All decked out in holiday charm.
You pick out the perfect tree
And cut it down on hands and knees.

At home, with tree in stand, you string the lights–
No knots or tangles, and they all work to your delight.
You hang the ornaments in silver and gold
While drinking hot chocolate to stave off the cold.

Tomorrow the cookie baking starts
While the Christmas spirit grows in your heart.
But in your busyness, don’t forget
That child in the manger who loves you yet.

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tea Tidbit:

Teapot is on, the cups are waiting,
Favorite chairs anticipating,
No matter what I have to do,
My friend, there’s always time for you.

Author Unknown

 

Today’s Poem

Strangers Are Friends We Haven’t Met
by Helen Steiner Rice

God knows no strangers,
He loves us all,
The poor, the rich,
The great, the small . . .
He is a friend
Who is always there
To share our troubles
And lessen our care . . .
No one is a stranger
in God’s sight,
For God is love
And in His Light
May we, too, try
In our small way
To make new friends
From day to day . . .
So pass no stranger
With an unseeing eye,
For God may be sending
A new friend by.

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tea Tidbit:

If you live in Canada, you might be savoring Red Rose tea. This brand was created in 1899 out of a blend of Indian and Sri Lankan teas rather than the more common Chinese and Japanese teas. The result was a big success in Canada and Britain.

Today’s poetry selection is an untitled poem by Aphra Behn:

Not to sigh and to be tender,
Not to talk and prattle Love,
Is a Life no good can render,
And insipidly does move:
Unconcern do’s Life destroy,
Which, without Love, can know no Joy.

Life, without adoring Beauty,
Will be useless all the day;
Love’s a part of Human Duty.
And ’tis Pleasure to obey.
In vain the Gods did Life bestow,
Where kinder Love has nought to do.

What is Life, but soft desires,
And that Soul, that is not made
To entertain what Love inspires,
Oh thou dull immortal Shade?
Thou’dst better part with Flesh and Blood,
Than be, where Life’s not understood.

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tea Tidbit:

“For if I could please myself I would always live as I lived there. I would choose always to breakfast at exactly eight and to be at my desk by nine, there to read or write till one. If a cup of good tea or coffee could be brought to me about eleven, so much the better. Tea should be taken in solitude.”

C. S. Lewis, “Surprised by Joy”
Today’s poem is by William Wordsworth

O Nightingale!
Thou Surely Art

by William Wordsworth

O NIGHTINGALE! thou surely art
A creature of a ‘fiery heart’:-
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!
Thou sing’st as if the God of wine
Had helped thee to a Valentine;
A song in mockery and despite
Of shades, and dews, and silent night;
And steady bliss, and all the loves
Now sleeping in these peaceful groves.
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come-at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed – and cooed:
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song — the song for me!

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tea Tidbit:

A Loving Recipe for a Perfect Cup of Tea

I — willing friend who loves to sit and share

I — grateful heart to have a friend that cares

I — beautiful garden to show us God is near

 

Today’s poem is my own original free verse poem.

The Savior’s Entreaty
by Kelly F. Barr

My Beloved, why have you turned from me?
Why do you mock, disbelieve, and ignore my word?
Movies, youtube, social media, video games–
Worldly technology consumes your time.
You seek constant entertainment and your own selfish desires;
Rushing from one thing to another, no time to rest–
To rest in my loving embrace nor time to seek my face.

My heart aches for you and I shed tears for you.
I still speak to you, but you do not hear my still, small voice.
The blood I poured out for you means nothing to you;
Bu you still mean everything to me.
The battle raging inside you is real, don’t ignore it.
My stripes still heal, and someday soon I’m coming.
Until then my saints will continue to pray and reach out to you.

For my heart’s desire is that NONE SHOULD PERISH.

Tea and Poetry

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Today’s Tea Tidbit:

Strange how a teapot can represent at the same time the comforts of solitude and the pleasures of company.

–Author Unknown

Today I am sharing a poem by one of my favorite poets, Helen Steiner Rice:

On The Wings of Prayer

Just close your eyes and open your heart
And feel your worries and cares depart,
Just yield yourself to the Father above
And let Him hold you secure in His love …
For life on earth grows more involved
With endless problems that can’t be solved –
But God only asks us to do our best,
Then He will “take over” and finish the rest …
So when you are tired, discouraged and blue,
There’s always one door that is open to you –
And that is the door to “The House of Prayer”
And you’ll find God waiting to meet you there …
And “The House of Prayer” is no farther away
Than the quiet spot where you kneel and pray –
For the heart is a temple when God is there
As we place ourselves in His loving care …
And He hears every prayer and answers each one
When we pray in His name “Thy Will Be Done” –
And the burdens that seemed too heavy to bear
Are lifted away on “The Wings of a Prayer“.