Friday, September 09, 2022
My Mourning Cup
Slightly astringent, the Earl Grey
In my glass mug teases my tongue,
And the heady warmth of distant oranges,
Sing mellow notes… a counterpoint,
For the earthy melody of my tea.
Mea cuppa is a small salute, a nod,
To an iron soul in a velvet glove;
Gone from the shores of the great lake,
Gone from the magic isle,
With the silent peace of a sovereign servant,
Whose life was duty, bound with joy.
The gentle touch of empathy, laced with steel,
is gone from the UK ship of state.
Posted by Mick at 12:52 PM