Everything Stops For Tea

A different time, but a place

I know so well. When I was

A kid, marching in Cub troops

The length of underdeveloped

Heol Llanishen Fach

‘Smarts Garage’ stood on the spot,

A mere teaspoon’s throw in History,

Away from Rhiwbina Tea Rooms days.

Omnibus trips and charabancs

Came to call. Time turned more gently

Back then. Pocket Watch hands rotated

In a slower semaphore of measuring.

So many cups, drained, washed and drained.

So many conversations. Some lovers’ trysts.

So many spoons turning. Always clockwise,

Think about it. No one stirs anti-clockwise.

Tea Room long gone. Replaced by modern life,

But somewhere still, just bubbling away in memory.

by Roger Stennett