Cakes and Tea – Kathleen’s Blog

Sonnet Counterpoint the final poem in Searching in Circles            by Rose Anna Higashi           Sometimes a circle is a fairy ring, Sometimes a yin and

As 2025 comes to and end, marking the twelfth anniversary of our website myteaplanner.com and the tenth anniversary of our blogs, “Tea and Travels” and

 The Third Thursday Up north, snow has already Fallen on the pines when November Arrives. The maple leaves are bright Dawn red, and the

  October  Tweed was conceived in autumn, Along with tartan plaid, by some ancient Artist, envying the hardwood forest in fall. Like an Ozark

 Portent September’s moon suspends In an oyster shell sky, Her newly waned shape a baroque pearl. Her light dazzles, silver-white, And the stars keep

 When August arrives, summer wears her tiara Like a prom queen. Every day is golden with warm Sunshine and every twilight filled with fireflies.

  Midsummer Vespers  Darkness settles after eight, So the oak leaves look like Shadowy clouds. The evening star is out, And below it, a

 MARGARET IN MAY  She was born in May when the bearded iris Were in bloom and the woodland wildflowers Blossomed all along Shoal

 In the still summer Night, gentle moonlight falls on The cherry blossoms.  Summer rain sprinkles      The ripe cherries and sneaks through     Â

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​In some places, there is still snow, Piled up by the side of the road, dirty and Grungy. White patches gleam on the distant hills,

    ​You are a dancing child! You waltz And weave through twenty-eight Short days, and even you have no Notion which way you will

  ​Sudden Seeing   Bright Jupiter and Winter’s full moon crown the sky And glisten on the sea.   There is no dead of winter.

  Bright sunlight follows Winter morning rain. Drops cling To the red ginger. The four weeks before Christmas are a joyful time of planning and

  ​In November, soft Rain comes to Honolulu With a huge rainbow. Every autumn, when November arrives, my first thought is Thanksgiving. I love this

    ​Oleander Days   Autumn calls from a distance As the oleanders still bloom That deep pink that makes us think That summer’s vestige

  Bird Dance   Unless we listen, we will never hear them calling, Tirelessly, from their deep, throbbing hearts. Robins perched in leafy oaks Sing