Tea and Poetry Tuesday

Today’s Tea Tidbit:
“Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.”
— Alexander Puskin

Character Driven

by Kelly F. Barr

They introduce themselves to my mind–
Men, women, children.
We need you to tell our stories.
Their histories, backgrounds, and circumstances unwind.
Notes spill from my pen and a story begins
As my fingers tap, tap upon my laptop keys.
Sentences, paragraphs, pages, and chapters flow;
A plot of conflict and romance weaves.
Nearing the end, and someone new arrives
Upending circumstances, challenging romances.
I thought I knew where this was going; now unsure–
My mind spins as this new person drives.
As the climax hits and the story begins to dive;
A gradual grade descending;
One broken–healed; One rejected–accepted; One lost–redeemed,
Bringing it all to a satisfying ending.

Tea and Poetry Tuesday

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

Today’s little tea tidbit is:

“The legend of tea’s origin is that it was discovered by Chinese Emperor Shen Nung in 2737 B.C., when a tea leaf accidentally fell into a bowl of hot water.”

 

Today I was inspired to write an original poem:

Too Long Summer

by Kelly F. Barr

Humidity and rain, humidity and rain,
The things of which this summer are made.
These summer months drag on and on
But I wish they were gone.

No sun and sandy beaches for me
As I prefer to remain burn-free.
Sticky clothes and sweated hair strands
Are more than I care to withstand.

I long for a cool breeze;
Colored leaves on the trees.
Scarecrows, pumpkins, Indian corn,
And gourds filling the horn.

Warm days, chilled nights
are my greatest delights.
The spicy tastes and scents of Fall:
My favorite season of them all.