imagine if you will...
as you sit and drink a brew
of leaf and water,
perhaps a sugar or two.

a book passed down,
from mother to daughter
much loved, much read
thoughts from inside
a poetic head...
of lover's crossed by stars.

and as you sit and drink and look,
imagine if you can,
the texture of the paper
the make a heavy gauge,
the ink so fine and black,
meandering in scripted lines
across the page.

and as you drink and look and read
of young love's joy and greed
and gentle lust and greenest jealousy
that gives cause to create trickery
only  to have true hearts  bleed
and lovers to pay the final cost
and pay the cost of love's mortality

and as you look and read and believe
the urgency, of the young lover's creed
your tears may fall and blend
with those that believed before
and if a tear you did not shed
then perhaps as others have
you will add a ring of tea.
as did they as they  partook
of a momentary escape
from the daily excess
of grind and toil and
travelled deep into the poets mind

and as you read and believe and dream
the pathways open and
the scenes are set
and you may find
the beginnings of book
to write, to beget,
or mayhap, just a fancy,
fledged and ready to take flight.
either way,
much was gained
from a cup of tea, brewed
and an old romantic book,
albeit tea-stained.