For as long as I remember my Nana Chapman had this little silver teapot.  When she passed away, I asked my Mum if I could have it, along with the little tea strainer she used – it was loose leaf all the way with Nan.  Although it leaks if you pour too quickly and is looking a little dented, I always feel closer to Nan when I use it.

The other day a name of a little poem popped into my head and I decided to see where I’d go with it.  Here’s the end result.

Tea for two

Funnily enough, you never called it “a brew.”

The kettle boiled, the china ready,

A tray to keep everything steady.

A spoon of tea for me and thee,

The little teapot couldn’t stretch to three.

You’d always use loose-leaf PG Tips,

Nothing else would pass our lips.

Leave it be a minute or two,

Any less or longer simply wouldn’t do.

Carefully poured so as not to drip,

We didn’t want to miss even one last sip.

Out in the garden or in the by the fire,

Of your company I never did tire.

Now I’m only making tea for one,

Which, quite frankly, isn’t that much fun.

But when I’m preparing it just as you showed me,

(Warming the teapot is what’s really the key)

It’s like you’re here by my side,

Almost as though you’re my personal tea-making guide.

Making tea for one will just have to do.

But please know, I’d much rather be making tea for us two.