Tea Poems - Poems about Tea

Tea Talk

Ten in the night. The porch light flickers on, like a lighthouse in rural darkness. Healing begins with a door left open. An old lady at 90 sets the kettle to boil, chamomile steeping in amber pools of hope. The wooden sign leans against her window: Tea & Talk. Always Open to Anyone.

Seven nights of

What the tea leaves reveal

From a loud-mouth, world’s cease-fire arranger
To desperate man adrift, in danger,
Which, naught quite was rendered,
Panned, having surrendered,
And what is worse than that,
For a rival to bat,
Dubbed as salesman and Putin’s messenger! 
_____________________________  
Happenings | 37.08.2025 | USA, humour

Note: Meeting between Trump and Putin in Alaska.  Boasts galore and no more boats to reach

If only you were

That summer night air forgot to
breathe, I forgot something too.
Not sure what, but I remember:

a star landed in the curved moon
—I saw it in the reflection
of my steaming apple tea

I remember wanting to
tell you, I witnessed a celestial love:
A lone star found her place
rested in the crescent’s embrace
I thought you’d love the story, a love
defying

Brand New Tea Kettle

Decsions, decsions he spoke of his chooses of ffod.
The meager of supply would change his atitude.
Simmering, the spicy broth he
waited to smell
the savory food. Then he added dumplings, his favorite
comfort food.
He had roasted a tough rooster
one that had pecked in his yard. The flvor was rustic
and gamey he ate it with some chard.
Mushrooms, Mushrooms garlic

dandelion leaf tea

have you ever tried to eat dandelion leaves?
someone told me how delicious they are in a tea.
I did not have a recipe, but I tried it several ways.
I am pretty sure they were lying.

A Few Haiku For Morning Tea

Memories

cracked teacup - 
still too full
to throw away


Sounds

insomnia -
all these sounds
I'd miss if I was asleep 


Sudden Revelation 

distant lightning -
the silhouettes
of so many dead trees.


Rain

no longer with us
yet the rain still fills
her water bowl

Hobnobbing With The Hoi Polloi

With a stiff upper lip and old school tie
still it's just not cricket
but the upper crust they say
are on a sticky wicket
to pay the estate or make ends meet
they have conducted tours
of stately homes safari parks
and the family jewels
we used to go to Scarborough Southend-on-Sea
Bognor Brighton Blackpool
have fish 'n' chips for tea
but now for fifty

The Dead Pour Me Out Like Tea

I am dead to many, a few are dead to me.
I am forgotten 
by girls in green silk sarongs

yet they still pour me out like tea.

The dead are drunk on themselves,
as I am.

I throw up
a timeworn rope of thought

they haul me up
just enough for me to see
the moon
caught in a teacup,

then I allow them,
let them

I called you this morning, life, for a bitter tea

I called you this morning, life, for a bitter tea,
We, who never knew how to exchange a true word,
We, who danced on the same tense wire,
Your eyes are estranged from me, the traces of past battles are your attire.
You embrace the wrinkles, and a tear slides down your cheek,
You seemed tired of me, life.
I know

My lovely cup of tea

All alone in my later life just my memories and me

Reminiscing about my younger years 
With a lovely cup of tea.

Thinking about loved ones who have been and gone.

Time has gone so fast has it really been 
That long.

Days slip into weeks and months slip into 
Years

Laughter in happy times and in sadness there were

Sipping Tea at a Brothel

He pays.
He leaves.

And she bleeds quietly.



Some come for release,

others for control.

Some come to forget.

Some to remember.

Some to be punished.

Some just come because it’s cheap.



It's sin.

It’s not sin.

It’s survival.

It’s escape.

It’s addiction.

It’s barter.

It's bargain.

It's need.

It’s ritual.



Here, bodies are commodities.

Sold by the hour.

Measured by the weight, age and colour of the skin,

freshness of smile,

limpness of resistance.



It is commercialisation

Reading Tea Leaves

Wizened old lady read the leaves
two taunted her, a gentle tease
she heard a cough and a wheeze
leaves transmogrified with a sneeze

door slammed shut by a hardy breeze
what do they say? asked young Louise
You’ll have a good life she said with ease.
Old hag who raised bullfrogs and bees.

midnight tea

I sipped the silence,
as stars stirred the sky.
My thoughts brewed heavy
in a porcelain sigh.

The moon knew secrets
I dared not keep—
and poured them gently
into my sleep.

Tea Time

Look, London ladies, buff your speech
Mind your soiled plantation fingers
Nary a trace of our old worlds
Occupy their halls royally
Porcelain cups poised on pinkies

Sipping My Tea

John 8:7
“So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”


Sipping herbal tea, my mind goes back
to the time when you said to me…

… let him without sin, cast the first stone…

The memory trembles in me,

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