Orchids In The Tea Room Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

I thought of orchids pink, ,
I saw far away orchis purple,
And yellow and tea sipped
With two straws that pull
It into my mouth at once
For the cup and saucer, I
Held in my hand had a handle
Of gold, for it had been passed
down in the family.

The thought of orchids still
lingers in my mind, painting
times past and futures I did not know
for they brought to me a happiness,
That made my love with my,
Cup of ea a celebration
Of my the time I have lived,
For I am advancing in years.

These orchids planted by mama,
In this room remind me of her,
Legs stretched in front of her,
As she said I should get her
More milk.

I always forgot to check if
The milkman had come, and she
Said to the clink clink I made
In our kitchen, 'just to look
Near the door would not kill you,
Now give me the condensed milk.'

Mama's tea went down better, with
Fresh milk with cream for she loved
To see it floating at the top,
And draw it in and leave a bit
Hanging on her lip, to be cherished
With the next sip on her white cup
With the roses on it.

Mama had a collection of teapots,
Some of which had special knitted
warmers, that they wore to keep her
Precious tea, hot till daddy came home.
Then the two would sit and, drink
Their tea over stories of growing
Up poor during the depression and
Laugh at how we children have never
Tasted dry bread.

The Blue Delph set was only used
When Pastor came to visit, for
Everyone knew it, had come
All the way from Holland, and
Had to be used for dinners and tea times
Of those who speak for God.

The orchids in my house attest
To this for they have heard
And seen the past, written by
The two with me erasing truths
As I told about the milkman
Whose duties, I seemed to overlook
Knowing that one day, I would
Forget to tell this story of tea.

When you see an orchid yellow,
Remember those do not smell,
But their look is so alive,
That it touched the heart of
A couple and made them produce
A child like me, over a look
That began over the brim a cup of
Two, in an tea room built by two
flowers in bloom, both in vases
And on cups and saucers.

I saw it proven that love
Goes down deeper and sweeter,
When taken down with a cup
Of tea, by two lovers whose
Habit of sharing goes beyond
The knowledge, of the children
That would be bore over the years.