Tea

I always thought that tea leaves
Were what you used for tea.
I plonked them in a teapot
And stirred them up with glee.
But then somebody told me
You could make tea with fruit;
You could make tea with nutmeg,
Or bits of ginger root!

I went on quite a rampage
This fact had blown my mind.
And I was very ready
To leave tea leaves behind.
I made some tea with gumnuts
I made some tea with stones,
I made some tea with gravy
And mouldy chicken bones.

So next time that you visit,
You must, of course, stop by.
I’ll serve you up some fruitcake
A slice of apple pie.
I’ll use the china teacups
The silver teaspoons too—
And you will get a taste of
The tea I make from glue!

cup-1849083_1280 - Copy

Image from Pixabay © ProSmile 2016

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49 thoughts on “Tea

      1. Okay: 😆

        Gracelessly Aging Mavin
        or
        Robbie Yates: You and Your Comical Verse Are Having a Perfectly Terrible Influence on my Poetry! Thanks a Lot!

        *****

        I’ve got a right to be feisty
        I hurt all over myself
        Everyone fifty and younger
        Keeps trying to put me
        Back up on some shelf

        Oh, do you find me somewhat testy?
        I’ve had all the bullshit I can
        Serenely intake
        In one significantly
        Hyperextended lifespan

        If I seem a little impatient
        At your oh-so-lovely display
        Of this or of that
        For some feminine purpose
        Well, I just can’t stand here all day

        My hips and my back they are aching
        My feet they are totally numb
        Your voice in my ears
        Is all overlaid
        By some constant, anonymous hum

        But, as they say, that is okay
        Beause I have heard it before
        And doubtless I heard it from somebody who
        Lied better than you do,
        What’s more

        Your machinations are transparent
        As through the most finely glazed glass
        Hidden motivations
        All clearly apparent
        In these wise old peepers, my lass!

        If fortune does favor the foolish
        And you get to my age to be
        We’ll see with my right
        To be badly uptight
        You don’t find you sudden agree

        When people all look just like babies
        And autos all seem just the same
        Many modern words
        In each conversation
        The meanings of which you can’t name

        As if that’s not enough, your back’s bent in half
        And feels every bit of it, too
        Don’t go anywhere
        Because people stare
        And folks have to slow down for you

        Not even to mention, upon your return
        From every side trip to the toilet
        Your feeble relief
        Comes swiftly to grief:
        Another trip comes up to spoil it

        Yes, I’ve earned the right to be crabby
        Be crabby late and crabby soon
        As long as I’m having to listen
        To juvenile nonsense
        You little buffoon!

        (Posting tomorrow morning unless you subpoena first — may I have some more of that yummy glue tea?)

        Liked by 1 person

  1. A tea made from glue? Genius! Especially for pesky visitors who have a tendency to talk a wee bit much. If you proportion it just right, you might “accidentally” glue their mouths shut and buy yourself a few moments of peace. 😛

    Liked by 1 person

      1. That was my plan. However I made the mistake of going to the doctor and ended up being told I was faulty in several respects. Once you reach 50 you must never go near a doctor…

        At your inquest I will, of course, deny saying that. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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