Gedichten over het onderwerp: tea

Gedichten over het onderwerp “tea” op Poets.by.

VrolijkDave Bonta

In a nutshell

An empty half-walnut shell lay upturned on the verandah. The wren fluttered down & poked at it with his bill, hopping all around it in his big clown feet. The black walnut half had two large openings like holes in a round kayak. The wren probed one & then the other, leaving nothing to chance. It was time for tea on the verandah, but nobody came. The wren flew off. The walnut shell rocked a few times
AngstigDave Bonta

Suspense

You are waiting for the next thing to be popular so you can admit how much you’ve come to loathe the last thing. But with this economy, who knows whether there will even be a next thing? That last thing might be the last thing ever, in which case you will someday come to miss it with all the fervent conviction of nostalgia. tea for two the ant holding a crumb above her head
PeinzendArinola

* * *

I am pieces of quotes From my favorite books Stitched together by midnight conversations And the sweet taste of Tea I have this tendency to fall apart suddenly And i need you to be okay with this Because am created by the souls Who are brave enough To gather all my tattered pieces And put me back together!
PeinzendAndrew Hamlin

Haiku 46

My window ticks once at a brushstroke from the rain wind keepsakes the rest But how many friends can you have, if all you see fills all that you know? Banana milk, drunk years ago, long-dead diner returns to my tongue The night crests morning only my two stinky feet keep me company Teakettle whistles, but it’s in another room along with my mind How proud of my words!
RomantischMani Rao

Duet

Yes we did did we Would you could you Oh go to bed Sleep off Be ok in the morning How was it my skin Had no buttons Was heavy By the fountain Overbridge The radio by the song When you knew What if I don’t come back For a lifetime I'll be making tea
VrolijkWinifred Welles

Five O'clock

Let us go far away from buttered toast, And tea, and marmalade, and all of it. The feathered jostling of their hats, the wit Unhumorous — I can not bear this host Of warm, sweet women! Everything offends. The murmurous movement of each gleaming bead, Sly laughter on soft lips that do not feed So much on tea as on their absent friends. I knew you understood because your eyes Were beckoning across the crowd to me. Oh Child, who have so strangely learned to be Unconsciously, mysteriously wise! We went away, unnoticed, from the room Into the drip of slow, autumnal rain. And laughed, and drew deep breath, and laughed again, We were so glad to leave that candled gloom.
DromerigKatherine Mansfield

The Lonesome Child

The baby in the looking-glass Is smiling through at me; She has her teaspoon in her hand, Her feeder on for tea. And if I look behind her I Can see the table spread; I wonder if she has to eat The nasty crusts of bread. Her doll, like mine, is sitting close Beside her special chair, She has a pussy on her lap; It must be my cup there. Her picture-book is on the floor, The cover’s just the same; And tidily upon the shelf I see my Ninepin game.
VrolijkKatherine Mansfield

Camomile Tea

Outside the sky is light with stars; There’s a hollow roaring from the sea. And, alas! for the little almond flowers, The wind is shaking the almond tree. How little I thought, a year ago, In that horrible cottage upon the Lee That he and I should be sitting so And sipping a cup of camomile tea. Light as feathers the witches fly, The horn of the moon is plain to see; By a firefly under a jonquil flower A goblin toasts a bumble-bee. We might be fifty, we might be five, So snug, so compact, so wise are we! Under the kitchen-table leg My knee is pressing against his knee.
DromerigFrank Oliver Call

Cups of Jade

The mists lie along the iris-purple valleys; The little wooden bridge, Where the waterfall rings its silver bells, Is a bow of darkness; The dust of the highway is gray as ashes under our feet; A cloud of night-birds Dots the orange sky. All day our paths have led us side by side Along the steep hot highways. It is cool evening now, And the temple bells call you one way And the silence calls me another. We come to the white door-posts of your house, We leave our dusty shoes beside the little pool among the iris leaves. We sit upon woven mats and you give me tea to drink From a cup of sea-green jade.
BoosAline Kilmer

Things

Sometimes when I am at tea with you I catch my breath At a thought that is old as the world is old And more bitter than death. It is that the spoon that you just laid down And the cup that you hold May be here shining and insolent When you are still and cold. Your careless note that I laid away May leap to my eyes like flame When the world has almost forgotten your voice Or the sound of your name. The golden Virgin da Vinci drew May smile on over my head, And daffodils nod in the silver vase When you are dead.