-By Orv Alveshere –
At the top of the stairs was a Tea Can.
It wasn’t green, aqua, taupe or tan.
A special color, that one of a kind.
An aura of feelings it brings to mind.
It was three inches high, by an inch and a half;
It brings me a smile, and makes me laugh.
Go fetch a pail of coal in early days,
Those memories are merely a haze.
So cresting the stair, my youthful chores done,
Into the kitchen I bring this one.
Oh Mother, would you please make us some tea?
Open the can so we all could see?
Kernels? Or Flakes? It’s just shriveled leaves;
Describe how those tiny buds deceive.
They’re so minute, we couldn’t read our fortune.
May as well ask the ‘Man in the Moon’.
We’d watch the kettle that would never boil
And respite from my Mother’s toil.
And what without wondering eyes we’d see,
Leaves open, expand, and become a tea.
We didn’t wish for an English Palace
Or serving on a silver chalice.
“I’d better not make this tea too strong,
For these, my children, who follow along.
And then I’ll just add a smidgeon of milk.
We’re making a drink as smooth as silk.
Now you must cool it, so your mouth you won’t burn.
Pass the stirring spoon after your turn.”
After many years of this special tea,
In the big white house on the prairie,
And we could open the can, just to smell,
Aroma of tea we loved so well.
It wasn’t daily or weekly routine,
Special occasions, know what I mean?
How Mother’s brown eyes would glisten with pride.
She’d wear her feelings on the outside.
The tea lasted for many years, you see,
We rationed it so sparingly.
So, kids may feel the adult leverages;
No coffee, no tea, or beverages.
But relax that rule now and then, it’s better,
For a time to sit down together.
But, that tea wasn’t a magic potion,
Just reverie and stirring motion.
That name, it has a non-explosive sound,
My research, through the years, now has found.
It was simply named a ‘Gunpowder Tea’.
It was shared times with Mother and me.
Psychologists propose a fancy name,
The title to me is just the same.
As my Mother shared that special Tea Time
As their term now, of Qual I (Tea) Time!
Copyright 1994 Orv Alveshere