Over a cup of hot tea
The poet's words onto paper fly
Weaving skillful poetry

His poems I do so enjoy
His words, they never die
Over a cup of hot tea

Sometimes he sings merrily
Other times his finger over piano keys fly
Weaving skillful poetry

His happiness goes on eternally
Yet other times I see him cry
Over a cup of hot tea

Once I saw him by the sea
Where thoughts did like seagulls fly
Weaving skillful poetry

Enjoying the silence peacefully
With a blissful sigh
Over a cup of tea
Weaving skillful poetry

*~Marian~