Climbing away to a mist beyond foliage
where leaves leave peaks alone
naked at the top
no tea leaves to read

Wandering up
lost from you, climbing
away to a mist, I had hoped
something would
move me like you did a day
looking up, window listening
to true katydids play forelegs
at tops of oak trees, when I
seemed home, as if from the kitchen
you were coming to a boil with
true approval and encouragement tea.

Mountain climbing where
leaves leave peaks, I had hoped
to let spirits of you sanctify
meanders in the cold with gracious thoughts,
those hot dreams of you that infuse the stew
I carry in my backpack, mostly filled with
drudge stuff, but your precious memorandear
was tucked into the rear pocket made for
precious notes like gems amen, something
to hold for incantations against pebbles
in the shoes and grace for stumble stones
that haunt the winding up mountain path

Broken trees below the snow line
broken hearts above
misty mountain hawks
splintered memories clawing

Blue skies and fluff at the mountain top.
In a cloud I saw your face, a
tea cup and a dove, but

I heard myself scream and
saw the grief of my breath
form wispy puffs that fly away

But those sorrows are not of you,
though you do embrace every sparrow,
and when you’d not know
the name of the bird, you’d
christen it cute and lovely like you are

Winding down
there are birds in the sky
and no stumble stones, but
only the scent of tea up my nose
the feel of a memorandear in my pocket

There is sweetness to the air
your valley is near,
could be I’ll stumble
by your house to leave a note
or ring where I learned that
fresh tea is sweet when brewed
for an occasion where eyes meet

and blinks become flutters
a stuttered word divine, because
what would be affirmed in the steep
is the scent of wafting play where
seeping things flow out into
the rivers in two cups
fragrant with cinnamon
and swirly with a word
whispered in the mists
before silence goes to bed

I’ve seen it in a memo.

Ding dong.

— Douglas Gilbert

10 thoughts on “Tea

    1. Disneyland? Sounds like fun! (giggling) I went to disney world when I was a kid. I remember my favorite rides were space mountain and 20,000 leagues under the sea – It was supposed to be like a submarine but really you were just inside a dark boat with windows that had fish painted on them and it had a glass bottom. They didn’t trick me (hehe)…

  1. I think you have perfectly brewed this masterpiece of a poem. It holds on to the natural flavor and subtle sweet undertones that only you can bring to the kettle. I like the new additions, delicious, as always…

    1. Oh boy, I should stop and look at this tomorrow — I just did 3 quick edits and one I had to undo because it’s wrong… Oh gee who just did that… OK, OK, can’t be but one word that might be out of place… Yikes… OK, I’m stopping now and I’ll see what I can see from the glass bottom boat…

      1. uh oh! (giggle) Well maybe you should stop and take a break for now, looking through the glass bottom boat gives a good perspective sometimes – if i had a beer I’d offer it to you. All i have is some vodka and apple pie moon shine. Though I did just pull some fresh hot brownies from the oven to cool.

    2. OK, I finally see why I keep changing things. The structure is this:
      Wandering,…climbing… I had hoped… on a day,looking,…listening, when I blah, blah, and you were coming to a boil…
      I kept wanting to put in and take out when because I kept not realizing that all that stuff referred to “a day” and not to the beginning part where I just needed to have a main clause “I had hoped”:
      Wandering up
      lost from you, climbing
      away to a mist, I had hoped
          So with “I had hoped” everything else can be when or if or blah dee dah or ramble, ramble, ramble…
          So now it’s done as I had hoped when I did a day of false revisions and didn’t know I from me and thee and though and my elbow and funny bone.

      1. Well it sounds great now. I was wondering what you were talking about yesterday because it seemed to read fine to me as I wandered through the words but I assumed that i overlooked something because i tend to do that sometimes…
        Funny bone…I’ve always wondered why it was called that, it’s never very funny when you hit it on something. Getting tickled with a feather is much more fun and funnier. Funny bone kind of reminds me of when i was kid and i’d have a cramp in my leg and my mom would be all nonchalant and say “oh it’s just a charlie horse”. As if having a horse in your leg is something you should not be concerned about…

    3. Thanks. Yeah, it’s an odd (funny-peculiar) thing that things are misnamed or named on a whim and then it becomes a fad and gets stuck into future history where no body remembers where it came from. There’s a claim that in 1880 a baseball player got leg cramps. His name was Charlie “Old Hoss” Radbourn. Poor Charlie, apparently, got a lot of leg muscle cramps, but his horse was not harmed in the making of the slang expression.

      1. Really? That’s cool, I’d never heard of Charlie “Old Hoss” Radbourn before. He must’ve really had some crampy legs. I bet a lot of the slang words have odd meanings like that and I just don’t know about it. Ok, well i have to leave for work…

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