The Timeless Teapot

There you sit

In quiet elegance

In the most prominent of places,

The center of the table

And conversation

Matriarch of the teacups

Surrounded by your well-bred offspring

Standing tall in a royal stature

You’re more dignified, if not pretentious, than your counterparts Milk, Sugar, and Honey

They pour and swirl and lump into your tea,

Turning your herbal and floral lifeblood into a sickly-sweet concoction of muddled whimsy

It’s not proper!

Yet, you tolerate their presence in your midst

You’re more civilized than your hysterical cousin, the tea kettle,

Whose shrill whistle and frenetic boil are unrestrained and unpleasant

Yes, you hold the highest regard at the high tea!

Save maybe the crumpets, cookies, and cucumber sandwiches, who always find easy favor with the guests

But without you, there’d be no tea party!

No grand gathering of the town’s most refined ladies,

And occasionally gentlemen too

In your absence, there would be no whispers of tawdry gossip

Hearsay would be heard not! If not for you attending to the thirst of the privileged few

The exquisite gowns,

Chic coats,

Peculiar hats,

Luxury handbags,

Imported, hand-cobbled shoes,

Polite salutations,

The intermingling of the affluent and the esteemed…

None would happen without you

For you, dear teapot, are much more than a fine piece of painted porcelain

You are at once a match-maker,

An agent of social advancement,

A kingpin of blue blood society,

And a hostess’ closest friend

You have earned your seat of honor

And will be passed down from one pedigreed generation to the next

Hidden away, for long days, in the china cabinet you may be,

Your legacy will continue to steep, dear friend,

Like your fragrant, sumptuous tea