Tea Time

Last week my Writing 12 class and I had our first Tea Party Tuesday, where everyone brings in a variety of tea and a cup to sip from and we enjoy the simple act of taking in tea.  Since it was our first Tea Party and a writing class, it was only natural to write poetry around this old aged tradition.  I too wrote a poem, which was inspired by my late Nan.  And she must been present today as when I went to my parents house for lunch and tea my mom told me a story about how Nan would always sing this silly song about inviting a certain family for tea and ending with tickling a person's bottom with celery.  Not sure how it tied into drinking tea, though my Nan had lots of silly songs to make us laugh.  She drank tea almost everyday, and  it was with her that I learned how to drink tea.  So here is my poem to my Nan about our Tea Parties.

For Nan

No, I'm not a Red Rose kind of gal, I'd never claim to be
But just this once
I'll sip with you

No, Orange Pekoe is not my cup of tea, I prefer Green
But as you steep the dried leaves in my mum's blue pottery, stained with this tradition
I'll stop and sip with you

No, 3:00 tea time is not my ritual
Though a spot of milk in the bottom, followed by England's finest, swirling and eddying around
the bone china cup,
with two hard biscuits to dip
Is the correct order you state, handing me a steamy cup and saucer.
And so for this afternoon,
I'll sip this ritual with you

No, I'm not a Red Rose kind of gal, I'd never claim to be
But a year later, after you left us
I'd now sip tea every afternoon 
just with you