Our Poet

My sister Lydia wrote a lovely poem for a poetry contest at a local library. To our surprise (but not too much of a surprise, to me) she was called and notified that she had won a prize! We all drove out to the library for the evening and Lydia was presented with her prize and the opportunity to read her poem in front of the gathering. It was fun to see Lydia publicly recognized for her wonderful gift with words. We are all very proud of our poet!
Here is the prize winning poem for you all to see.

Tea Time Lingerings

A chair scrapes across the floor as a lisping voice

Announces, “Mommy, I can do it!”

A shaking hand reaches high for the teacup of choice

A careful, tiny hand in a glove that doesn’t fit.

The gentle, musical rumble, issued from the kettle,

Offers proof that high tea is to begin soon,

The ancient teapot stands ready, the one with the rose petal,

As the hour draws closer to twelve o’clock noon.

Fragrant tea leaves are brewed within the pot,

Kept warm by a tea cozy lined in silk,

Grown women look forward to black tea, piping hot,

Little women look forward to cold chocolate milk.

Cookies and biscuits and sweet jam filled tarts

Delight the accomplished or feminine cook

Little hands learn the useful art

From an experienced instructor rather than a book.

Hats and fans grace the elegant spread

In a most delightful, cockeyed fashion,

While little brothers in boyish dread,

Avoid the parlor in diligent passion.

Little ladies in large frilly dresses

Giggle and wiggle at the linen-clad table,

Little white flowers caught up in long, golden tresses,

Make small girls look like fairies from a fable.

Ladies in training keep their pinkies up

While conversation is kept with speeding tongue,

All sip from a delicate, china cup,

As lovely-whatevers delight the old and young.

The afternoon flies, evening draws near,

The parlor begins to empty,

Yet memory through the years remains dear,

Of lingering over a cup of tea.

By Lydia Hope

Posted by: Carissa