mom’s tea
February 4, 2013 § 6 Comments
smells good,
but is almost tasteless.
it’s a breeze
that creates a memory,
no more.
not substantial.
yet capable.
capable of
awakening, stirring,
listlessness leaves, me.
February 4, 2013 § 6 Comments
smells good,
but is almost tasteless.
it’s a breeze
that creates a memory,
no more.
not substantial.
yet capable.
capable of
awakening, stirring,
listlessness leaves, me.
oh…my family lived in England for a wonderful 5 years…one of my fondest, and most puzzling memories is the incredible bonding established through… tea! Puzzling because it is just tea. ( I know, it’s never ‘just’ tea, but you know what I mean.) Somehow american coffee doesn’t support the same experience. Your writing reminds me, exactly, of the ephemeral, yet lovely cuppas that I shared with countless friends. and now am left with myself, and many memories. Thank you, for visiting my blog – I am glad to discover yours.
Thanks for sharing this evocative poem.
reminds me of drinking green tea =)
I absolutely love this. It captures every wonderful tea memory spent with my sisters and my mom. I miss them so, that when I brew my tea, I always pretend they are sitting with me enjoying it!
I like it. I used to love my mum’s cooking too. and btw thanks for following my blog. I will endeavour to make mt blogs entertaining and meaningful
Beautiful.