Homage To The Tea Pluckers Poem by Margaret Beil

Your appealing voices drift gregariously across the valley
On the slopes of the hillside
You SEEM happy,
I wish so many modified things for you
But our moon is looking down on me also and knows our ways
As I watch your curious agile fingers darting here and there
Toiling away in heat that I cannot stand
Still you chatter
Your traditional song does not hide you
But echoes my heavy heart
A full angry sun adorns your forehead
And gently you perspire as you toil away
Rows of luminous trees hip high call your name night and day
Again your graceful little digits dance across the tops
Of my awaited heaven
Like a prima ballerina in beauteous choreography.