Poet’s Tea
by Susan Shea
You were only nine years old
when I gave us drink from the
Royal Albert Sonnet Series
bone china tea cups
you were Coleridge
I was Tennyson
you were my flower who had just
been told a weed had taken hold
in your sweet pancreas
but I knew that you would always
see golden hours your flower
would be like none the world had
ever awed before
I had to make you see your dream
come true I wanted you to know
that every morning you could open
your eyes in an endless field
where every bloom was yours to be
Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist, born in New York City, now living in a forest in Pennsylvania. Since she has returned to writing poetry this year, her poems have been accepted in a few dozen publications, including Avalon Literary Review, Ekstasis, Feminine Collective, and Across the Margin.
