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  You are @ HomeAdults Poetry


Source: Adults

Author: Rhona Aitken

Title: Dorothy

Such a nice lady. Not young,
slow in all she does - but competent
and loving her favourite past-time -
having people to tea.

As we sit chatting in her bijou lounge
we hear the timeless chime of cup on saucer,
tea-spoon in sugar before the gentle ‘plonk’
of tea-pot on Delft tile.

She pokes her rosy face around the door
and we are summoned. There are flowered
paper napkins. The cloth hand-embroidered.
A fuchsia posy stands pretty by ginger-bread.
Egg sandwiches - no crusts - sport sprigs of mint,
fresh from the garden with aromatic cucumber
and thin-sliced tomato. A silver knife
slices softly into fresh jam sponge.

The tea in our pot is Lady Gray. The scents of
bergamot and lemon balm fill the air.
No-one is hurried. Some linger on egg and cucumber,
others munch contentedly on their gingerbread.
It is a happy hour - the pleasure of her feast
shining from her sparkling eyes.


This afternoon, apropos of nothing, standing
at the bus stop - I hear that she has died.
It seems impossible. Tea-time will never be the same.
How that little lady will be missed.
I wrote this poem in the present tense.
I simply could not bring myself to write it in the past.

Published on writebuzz®: Adults > Poetry

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