Oolong Tea

Ella's prompt at Poets United's Wonder???? Wednesday is this intriguing teacup, which Ella gives the history of over at Poets United. Photo of the teacup by Ella's Edge. 

I find this ghostly woman at the bottom of the teacup mesmerizing. She takes me back to all I have read about Japan, the days of the courtesans and geishas, war time romances, sometimes forbidden ones. I shall invent one here about the lady in the cup, between an occupying American soldier and a young Japanese beauty. 

He was tall and ruddy-cheeked, 
noisy and full of laughter,
startling the reserved 
and dignified household
who were providing him with
temporary lodging.

She was small and delicate,
almond eyes mysterious
and downcast,
shy smile hidden behind
a fluttering fan.

When his bold eyes fell on her,
she blushed,
her hands trembling
as she knelt
to serve the tea
in tiny cups,
beautiful in her
cobalt blue kimono
with white long legged birds.

Later, he could hear her
with her sisters, 
all of them giggling
along the hallway
like a flock of cooing doves.

He could not keep his eyes away,
though she frowned, turned away,
tried to discourage his glance.
It was, of course,
impossible.
There would never be 
more than those glances,
those responsive,
uneasy flutterings 
of her heart.

Duty to family
was everything,
no young girl's heart 
strong enough to withstand,
in the face of centuries
of tradition.

He gave her, secretly,
a monogrammed lawn handkerchief
for remembering.
And when he left her father's house,
he pocketed
one fragile ceremonial teacup
engraved with her face.

For the rest of his life,
he would see her looking 
back at him
from the bottom of 
his morning cup
of oolong tea.

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Kids, my computer goes into the shop today. I will somehow get around to your sites tonight to read and comment, even if I have to commandeer my sister's computer!!!!!