Monday, 11 June 2018

high tea

dew-eyed and streaming golden
from an old black-hearted pot
assam or maybe darjeeling 
brewing yar thar brouhaha
on a thousand summer days
high-tea on the foothills
of a cake-stand’s doily sky
basket chairs tilted straw hats
and bees that jam 
and jazz and jazz and then
zzz and zzz and zzz
while all the afternoon a while
the dandelion clocks 
tick tock tick tock 

No comments:

Post a comment