I’ve been looking through and editing poems written in the moment, as responses to conversations, to challenges, or to writing prompts, and came across one that responds to an ongoing frustration which I find is shared by many. This is the fact that the time when many of us most want to sit down with a cup of tea, and perhaps a scone, is also the time when tea shops and cafes decide to close.
It seems to be the same in town and country and so is something that affects walkers, trippers and shoppers on equal measure - the closed sign when ‘open’ is what we want to see. This may be a British phenomenon, allied to our love affair with tea. but you can’t get coffee either. Here’s the poem.
No tea at 4 Miles of track devoured over hill or by the sea, footsore walkers needing a healing cup of tea see the tea sign swinging, envisage their friendly host scones on a tea tray bringing, but sadly they’re frustrated, their thirst will not be sated. It’s 4 o’clock. They’re closed. Meanwhile the weary shopper feels the energy dip, knows the only remedy is a cup of tea to sip, crosses the busy high street to find a place she knows, is faced by disappointment. It’s 4 o’clock. They’re closed. The tourists do the galleries, in gift shops spend their salaries, place treasures in their bag until they, weary, flag so look for a little tea shop where they can put their feet up and have some tea and toast but to their consternation and even more frustration it’s 4 o’clock. They’re closed. We ask ourselves ‘How can this be? The very time we all want tea the tea shops all are closed.’ Many answers have been tried from awkwardness to wounded pride but here’s the one I’d settle on. Just as we look for shop or caff the manager and all the staff have slipped away to take their rest. They’re in the place they all love best. Their kitchens, with the kettle on.
Just brilliant! ❤️