Drinks It Like Tea and Other Poems
What will you remember? What did you forget? I remember waking up in the dark, the shape of a mountain emerging as the sun rose. In this orchard, cobras bloomed in Spring, coiling up out of their brown-green husks to raise their red faces to the sun.
Their faces redden even as I write these words. What mountain is that? Vulture Peak, murmurs my aunt, and my stomach leaps, because this is where the Buddha recited the Lotus Sutra, a local work. Now this: sipping ginger chai from a clay cup, looking out at the mist and rain descending over Vulture Peak, I can smell a loaf of unleavened cake baking in the embers of the fireplace. My uncle and I used to walk in the Himalayas without money. Write about that. In the caves, I discharge the shocks I receive as part of my work in the university. My heart.
My carotid artery. Afterwards, I eat steamed beets with tart cherries mashed in, then fall into a deep sleep next to a running stream or brook, the wild roses curling around my neck. The night I met you, I lay down in the yarrow and sage — July, Colorado — without desire. The stems of those alien flowers and herbs poked through my cotton dress. In that moment, there was no difference between my arm and a leg. There you are burning. There you are fraying. There you are, a botanical population of textures, sensations and touch.
I stood before an ancient painting in the city I was born in then left. In the painting was a stand of muddy yellow flowers: the mustard seed or rape of Essex. Then returned to London with our arms and hearts covered with scratches, delighted. Animals, sugar and blood filled our dreams that night. How far will you go to touch the slaughterhouse floor? How to write a fairytale:. Include a cross-species contact, which is to say, a sharp point between the flower and the animal.
Include a perimeter in what you write, whether rural or urban. Because Miss Marschallin has a taste for masticating the sofas, chairs, footstools and anything else masquerading as a scratching post. So double-sided tape it is. We are forced to conclude that the woman at the till has never had the pleasure of battling for upwards of half an hour with the application of double-sided tape to her furniture.
Well, we tried. Peeled the tape off the step.
Ten Poems about Tea by various authors
Got it beautifully flat. Peeled off the protective coating, and lifted off the tape with it. Reapplied the tape, tried again. Gave up on that strand of tape and chose a fresh one. This nonsense went round and round in a fashion strongly evocative of a closed causal loop. All the while the cat paraded around the room, searching out weaknesses, assessing the chair corners we missed for maximum scratching potential.
Honestly, why would any sane cat owner bother? Needless to say, when we afterwards got around to tea, it was earned. It smells light and floral. It tastes of a tanin-heavy green tea. There are probably lots of meditative poems out there. We think Robert Frost even has one on Christmas Cards. It was a bloody battle. The Dachshunds — traitors — fought on the side of the tape. They wanted to eat the tape.
We have every confidence. Why are you screaming? What did I do wrong? Why are you crying? How can I make it right? Would you like it in a different color? Would you like it in a different size? Would you like it in a different room? The tea is herbal, and the overwhelming taste is of caramel. One thing this does do, though is establish very well the biscuity taste that a good caramel shortbread has. The tea tastes of this sort of biscuit.
- Moonie Goes To War (Moonie the Starbabe Book 4).
- Students drink tea, read poems | Manitou Messenger.
- The Poetry of Tea (Four Short Poems) | LetterPile.
- Romney vs. Family Values: His Administration’s Homosexual Programs Targeting Children;
- Napoleon in Russia (Special Campaigns Series Book 15).
We used to order it from the cafe we frequented in the years before peppermint squares. The tea would arrive in a teapot that defied the laws of physics and distributed the tea anywhere but in the cup, and was accompanied by a pot of hot water. That one had a workable spout. Andrews Bay. But for an accurate description of a wintry sea, look no further.
This was the burden of the Night, The saying of the sea, But lo! Specifically of mulled wine if you took out the alcohol content. The bizarre thing here is that it tastes not at all of oolong.
You ferment the leaves to make an oolong, so it always has something of a smoky taste. The point is, it should be ideally suited for something calling itself Mulled Wine Tea. We drink them all the time; orange oolong, oolong with raspberry, with lemon and citrus. Drink it with a mince pie and enjoy yourself. We never actually went out of our way to buy them, but they always seemed to be on hand at Christmas receptions or as sweets after supper — maybe a friend passed them round over afternoon tea.
We did look, but found no literature on the mince pie. Personally, we blame Oliver Cromwell, who famously declared them — and Christmas — illegal back when he was running England. The country then, like good, absent-minded Englishers, forgot to reinstate both as legal thereafter. This may explain the total lack of them in Canada, what with our track record of historically declining to offend Britain.
We make this a plum pudding, but if anyone has different ideas, do write in. It was a staple of Christmases in Guelph, growing up, where only our grandfather ate it. It manages to taste both of nothing and everything at once, to start with. In fact, it tasted so thoroughly of nothing that we went hunting for the ingredients. Atypically, not even the camomile comes through with its dusty, dry-hay taste. We brewed it in a mug, which is also atypical for us, so it may be that we misjudged the brewing time on this one.
Celebrating 17 years of making tea parties fun! Here is a collection of tea related quotes and poems. I would even settle for an amusing comment that would appeal to the masses. And be sure to check out this Pinterest board for more amusing tea quotes. The little spaces in time created by teatime rituals call out to be filled with conversation.
Even the tea itself—warm and comforting-inspires a feeling of relaxation and trust that fosters shared confidences.
Tea Poems and Quotes
Now tell me hundreds of things. The elevation. The climate. The sunshine.