The Tea Pot

 

The tea pot sits with ease on the stove,

Like a king enthroned, with mantle steel-wove,

Looking about with an imperious air,

Lord of the beverage, please use him with care.

 

I am his subject and all who drink tea,

For our hearts he enriches and bans misery,

He sagely and warmly revives our bleak lives,

Makes slow hours quick with friends, even wives,

 

He is prince beneficent of calm and repose,

Himself sits in silence, with uplifted nose,

Save on occasion of dividing his wealth,

Brewing ambrosia, from herbs he gives health.

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2 comments on “The Tea Pot

  1. sar108 says:

    How you instill life /and love/ with ease, when inspired, and animate whatever your Irish mind overwhelm with intensity, artfully is a mystery- I love this one- and that playful flow is amazing. Just love it!

    Like

  2. Christopher Black says:

    Thank you. Sometimes I just have to get away from the politics and world events and just have some fun with words, otherwise I would go completely insane. 🙂

    Like

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