Tea is for Sick People

I Hate Tea

You have something nice for me,
Oh, a nice hot brimming cup of tea,

That is a nice gesture a very kind act,
But I am not sick and that is a fact,

Oh you say that does not preclude,
The need for a calming tea interlude,

It does for me because I hate tea,
Tea the last thing I drink you see,

Because I hate the taste of tea,
It is something just not for me,



I do not care for tea at all,
Even in a glass icy and tall,

Not in a mug spicy and hot,
Would I want to have a spot,

Not in a cup of delicate bone china,
With what you would not serve a minor,

Do not attempt to serve it to me,
I despise the thought of tea you see.

Needed Touch

 The Needed Touch

Love without touch that's tender,
A touch you can no longer render,
The feeling of that loving hand,
Like the wisps of fine gentle sand,

















Tender touches light as feathers,


Showing what the heart endeavors.
Feeling  fingers up and down,
Showing love without a sound,















Oh, that touch you won't allow,


That you refrain from giving now,
Trapped inside you held at bay,
Never seeing the light of day,















Where is that touch that caress,


Day by day offered less and  less,
Does it hide in a place apart,
In deep crevices of your heart,















The sadness does not let it free,


Not now never extended  to me,
Soft sensations very much missed,
As well as being tenderly kissed,















True to you I will always be,
My heart will never set me free,
Memories will just have to do,
This is the price for loving you.

A boyfriend Substitue

So you want a massage chair for Christmas. That is a good thing to have. You can rest those weary and aching bones in a nice chair that has the extra added attraction of making you feel better . Watch it. It can be addictive. You might find yourself sitting in it all the time. It can become your special someone or your new paramour. This as told to me by a lady friend of mine who did get one last Christmas from a boyfriend.  I asked for him last time I heard from her. He is no longer in her life and that is too bad. She said he blamed it on that damn chair. This is what she told me about, THE CHAIR.

THE MASSAGE CHAIR

Push the button that's marked go,
Starts it off nice and slow,
Then it starts to pick up speed,
Giving me the jolt I need.

The quiet room starts to spin,
And in your mind you start to sin,
From every angle comes it's vibes,
Bringing forth sensuous sighs.

Carried off by shear delight,
You hold on to it very tight,
Your body shakes like a leaf,
As you begin to feel relief.

It brings you to another level,
You start your dance with the devil,
Sway to the music like vibrato,
Raising the tempo to wild staccato,

Then relax to quiet interlude.
Waiting again to for more altitude,
One more time it starts to flutter,
Flushed red lips then start to mutter.

Faster faster please don't stop,
Don't let this heightened feeling drop,
It obeys and quickens the dance,
Body pulsating to it's trance.

All of you starts to quiver,
As rapid beat it does deliver,
Then your mind you begin to lose,
Hoping please don't blow a fuse.

Oh wonderful chair magnificent seat,
Do it again let me feel the heat,
Oh fantasy chair so sublime,
Please get me off one more time.