Thursday, April 21, 2016

Tea party at five



Pink clouds
get out of my way
I must go, this is the day!
Silk or lace?
What shade?
Smart hat, pink or lilac?
It must be soft
as the words we must speak
as the cotton-candy sky
as the solemnity of the blooms
The sweet scented petals
caressing soft
as feathery touch on the ear lobe
Taffeta on the table
ancient thin porcelain cups
hand painted blue, glazed in history
There will be delicate little poetry
made of sugar and flower
fruits of delights on crystal towers
Silver reflecting the glorious afternoon
Little bits of hair escaping the golden pin
At five o’clock
I will be having tea with the queen
she will smile at my awkward courtesy
Her best Mona Lisa smile
and I will gaze into her eyes
as if gazing the stars
The tea pot will be boiling then
and I will steam
on the mystery of the sphinx
Will it be deciphered?
Or will she devour me?
Poise, softness, grace
on glass shoes
fly or break
tic tac
and I will keep the moment
on the iron chain of the memories
at the end I will complement her china
she will tell me I can keep it
and when I bow to say good bye
she will be gone
and I will start to weep
and break the cups, the teapot, the plate
and before I leave the gate
I shall have yet a new mosaic


To Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II on her 90th Birthday