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nopeasforever

At Tea


 

By Steve

 

It was the quintessential tea house

Fourteen blends of black tea alone

Served from steaming teapots

“No Coffee Served” said the menu

 

The cups and saucers weren’t all the same

Years but more likely decades of breakage

So new china was purchased

The old patterns no longer available

 

The chairs and tables were similarly mismatched

A mixture of styles and materials

A hodgepodge to match the china and the silverware

To give the place its own unique charm

 

In the corner by a window sat

A solitary figure looking out to the street

An artist trying to find inspiration

Fueled by a pot of tea

 

The staff was attentive but unobtrusive

Most patrons sitting in small groups

Of two, three or more

Deep in conversation

 

The atmosphere of the tea room was perfect

Perfect for a tête-à-tête

Or the telling of a newly born baby

Or pondering events of the world

 

A cat walked in from outside

Ignoring the patrons

Meandering over to the bowl of milk

That he knew was set out for him

 

As the day wore on, other patrons entered

Some for the first and sadly the last time

The regulars drifted in at their usual time

All to a cheerful greeting from the staff

“Which blend would you care for today?”


(Note: Phyllis and I were in London recently. We had a lovely spot of tea at this establishment.)



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