Heat Up the Pot
There are so many places in the world
When high tea is served on a silver tray
Where ladies would sit, their hair neatly curled
And soft gentle words they were heard to say.
Now they all hurry thru a coffee shop
All shouting orders for a drink to go
Where they barely take enough time to stop
To have a word with someone they might know.
When did people forget how to slow down
And doors were open, ‘n words were shared
With warm greetings, a smile, and not a frown
And telling each other how much they cared?
If there is a place where you still serve tea
Please heat up a pot, and then invite me!
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