Poetry
Comments 32

When The Apple Trees Shake Loose #DVersePoets

It takes three minutes to brew black tea.

English breakfast, china mug,

steam lifting lazy from the spout

in a long, spiral stretch,

my own arms raised from the blanket

for the glass bottles stowed up top

just waiting for autumn and wind falls.

This entry was posted in: Poetry

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Carol Forrester is a writer trying to be a better one. She’s currently working on a poetry collection 'It's All In The Blood'. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon. More recently her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works.

32 Comments

    • Not intentionally unfortunately. Tea always tastes best out of a thin lipped china mug, and English Breakfast tea is the only one I like that much. Earl Grey is a bit too floral for my taste, and Assam is a bit overpowering. We won’t even mention herbals.

  1. I really like this–like a video of those moments, the rising from the covers and the reading for the autumn tea flavors. I can feel the chill in the air.

  2. I can just feel and taste that first cup of tea, Carol! I usually have mine around six; I let the cats out and watch the morning light creep across the garden. I love the alliteration on ‘l’, a lolling sound, in the line ‘steam lifting lazy from the spout’. Sadly, the wind has removed the last apples from our trees. We still have a few quinces quite high up that just won’t fall!

    • All the apples have dropped now, though we’ve not had the normal hoard that the neighbour gives us. It’s a lovely gift each year, but a bit too much to try and work with before the windfalls start to rot. Hence the bottles that only get used once a year.

  3. I like the way everything reaches up in this poem, until the end, when everything is falling back to earth. Lovely sense of movement.

    I’m glad somebody else uses a teapot.

  4. I’m wondering what’s in the bottles you’re reaching for that are just waiting? I like how you describe the tea brewing with the wispy heat rising.

  5. sanaarizvi says

    I so love your way with words, Carol! You have a natural inclination toward gorgeous, deeply honest and heart-stirring imagery. ❤️

  6. Wonderfully presented work, Carol. I’m a coffee guy in the morning, but I loves me some Lapsng Souchong while I write before bed.
    Write On!

  7. What a lovely image of waking up to a cup of tea: the Shangri-la of a cold autumn morning! I can go for that, but give me American Breakfast tea 🙂

  8. I love my morning cup of tea! It’s the only way I can prize myself out of bed on cold, dark mornings. A lovely poem of Autumn and Winter’s approach.

  9. Completely agree about the china mug. None of that fat-lipped stuff for delicate tea. A really lovely poem.

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