Why the Brits Love Tea
What is it with Mondays?
I understand now why the Brits love tea.
It came as a dear, curious epiphany.
Sitting at a table, dried up tears in my eye,
With a little steaming mug in my hands.
It isn't because it has great healing power.
Or because it smells pleasantly of flowers.
It's because of the hand that offers it up,
Offering comfort and love in a cup.
An offering of empathy in the middle of grief,
Saying "I love you" however brief.
Or maybe a gift to a stranger stopping over,
To warm them and send them on their way.
Tea is communion between two bosom friends,
Warmth for the body when close to the end.
A cup to hold memories, when we fear we'll forget,
Hiding tears behind sips, and a Kleenex stuffed hand.
Now that I've learned the purpose of tea
The sacred duty is thus passed to me.
To welcome the grieving, the friend, and the stranger.
Off'ring a love in which they can linger.
To teach them to give by a giving example,
Even when time seems ever less than ample.
To take but a moment, to share a small light,
To teach them why the Brits love tea.
About the Creator
Abbey Ness
Hi! Welcome to my wandering thoughts. I am a musician, poet, artist, and writer. I'm a full time student and wife to the hottest guy ever. Despite being a busy bee, I love to sit down with a hot coffee and write. I hope you enjoy!
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