Aunt Fern's Tea Poem by Richard D Remler

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When Aunt Fern came to visit,
She would make her famous tea.
And one by one, we'd have to drink it,
Karen, Albert, Anne and me.

How her eyes would shine, and more,
When she came walking in that door.
And then she'd rattle on about
Uncle Feezle's touch of gout.

Oh, Aunt Fern would be so giddy,
Like a school girl at play.
Percolating her concoction
Before we all escaped away.

How we eyed that kitchen window,
Where the sun shined oh so bright,
And would have loved to watch the squirrels
Chase the robins into flight.

But Aunt Fern watched us with wary eyes
The size of giant pizza pies,
Through glasses thick as an alder tree,
She'd look at them, she'd look at me,

And smile in that Aunt Fern way,
Then, like the hyena out at play
She'd cackle as she mixed her spices,
And chopped her ginger into slices.

Aunt Fern's tea would have this chill,
And a most un-cherry scent,
That followed all too closely
Wherever Aunt Fern went.

And how she'd move, from there to here,
Then right back there again.
Chopping, dicing, shredding, flaking,
As though she were but candle making.

When Aunt Fern handed us our teacups,
The scent of her strange brew
Smelled almost like an eyeball
Roasting in a cabbage stew.

I'm sure she tried to fix it right,
But I, for one, could see
Little creatures floating in it,
All fighting to get free.

I would have let it all lay waste,
This concoction oozing goo,
For Karen, Albert, Anne and I
Did not know what to do.

We tried to add some sugar
To sweeten up the tea,
And perhaps a spot of honey
From an Ever-Better Bee.

But Aunt Fern was watching carefully
And every thing that she could see
She tallied in her memory
Of Karen, Albert, Anne and me.

The tea had so many colors,
And just as many hues.
A dozen shades of poison-wood
And the scent of rotting shoes.

And when Aunt Fern's tea went tweeky,
And turned three shades of green,
She simply smiled innocent,
As if she had not seen.

Karen, she made a wratchet face
Upon her second sip.
And Albert bravely held his ground
When he took a tiny nip.

Anne, she only stirred and stirred
And stirred her teacup well.
She could not seem to ever get
Beyond its wretched smell.

And I watched the cauldron of my cup
Swirl ever 'round about.
But when Aunt Fern had looked away
I poured the whole thing out.


Copyright © MMXII Richard D. Remler


**A Children's Tale**