(A silly thing really. What a strange girl I was.)
Tea Time
A Truth about teacups rarely spoken,
the most beautiful are always broken.
Is it the sight of finery
which weakens so the spinery?
Hands quiver, carpets sodden,
porcelains shiver, linens troden.
All things fine are passing,
none is worth amassing.
That's said and done.
Now, please pass a scone.
This reminds me of another "poem" I wrote:
I think that I shall never see
a poem so lovely as it is twee.
5 comments:
That's better than anything I could have possibly come up with.
Was? Are.
Thanks, GB.
CH, you say the sweetest things.
Maybe not the nicest, but I do have the market on pithy cornered...
You know, CH, the pith is my least favorite part of the orange.
Just kidding, you know I love ya.
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