Tea Till Spring Poem by Bill Galvin

Chamomile, or green, on a winter's eve…
Sometimes he sips warm tea, reminding him,
When last from her warm hearth he did leave,
With more rivers to cross; more words to pen.

Her tongue had slipped (or not) that day;
She tried to catch her words before they left her lips;
But she hoped he did not forget her, while away,
As he continued on with his solitary trips.

She sent him off with a lovely piece of art,
That she created in Taos many lifetimes ago;
He smiled… he would never let her memory go,
He could not at all disregard his own heart.

Thoughts of her fly to, and through him, every day;
Their artist's spirits have met, and come into favor;
They sing songs together, that the two hearts savor;
And wait patiently to see what unfolds their way.

Six weeks since then, when they last embraced,
As they lie before a flaming fireplace…
He says, fie upon the next few weeks or more,
Before they meet again down near river shore.

Pouring another brew from a tea shop, he waits;
When he asked her to pick out a good blend for him,
She selected "Today and Always" for his taste;
An intended message; surely, not on a whim…

An expression in a true poet's parlance placed.


Is it me for you… or, you for me?
Ah… it's tea for two… and two for tea…
That's the way it goes, is it not?
Well, then, we'll just have to wait and see,
He said to himself, most hopefully…
As he prepared another pot.



2-26-2016