3 pm?: It Must Be Time For Tea...
"Tea is the only simple pleasure left to us."
But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.
Jane Austen
You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to please me.
C.S. Lewis
Tea! Bless ordinary everyday afternoon tea!
Agatha Christie
Tea is the only simple pleasure left to us.
Oscar Wilde
Thank you for visiting the Bloomsbury Gallery! If you enjoyed this collection, please like and/or share. And, as always, I would love to know your thoughts in the comments. You can also click the following link to Become a Member and/or read the suggested Beyond Bloomsbury posts below. Until next time…
Images:
Images on Beyond Bloomsbury are usually credited. I conduct thorough picture research, but please let me know if you believe a credit needs to be added or corrected. Thank you!
Loved these...you made me think of one of the loveliest 'tea-themed' poems: Milk for the Cat
When the tea is brought at five o'clock,
And all the neat curtains are drawn with care,
The little black cat with bright green eyes
Is suddenly purring there.
At first she pretends, having nothing to do,
She has come in merely to blink by the grate,
But, though tea may be late or the milk may be sour,
She is never late.
And presently her agate eyes
Take a soft large milky haze,
And her independent casual glance
Becomes a stiff, hard gaze.
Then she stamps her claws or lifts her ears,
Or twists her tail and begins to stir,
Till suddenly all her lithe body becomes
One breathing, trembling purr.
The children eat and wriggle and laugh;
The two old ladies stroke their silk:
But the cat is grown small and thin with desire,
Transformed to a creeping lust for milk.
The white saucer like some full moon descends
At last from the clouds of the table above;
She sighs and dreams and thrills and glows,
Transfigured with love.
She nestles over the shining rim,
Buries her chin in the creamy sea;
Her tail hangs loose; each drowsy paw
Is doubled under each bending knee.
A long, dim ecstasy holds her life;
Her world is an infinite shapeless white,
Till her tongue has curled the last holy drop,
Then she sinks back into the night,
Draws and dips her body to heap
Her sleepy nerves in the great arm-chair,
Lies defeated and buried deep
Three or four hours unconscious there.
Harold Monro (1879-1932)
Another great set of pictures.
I can't help feeling you missed one great 'tea' quote: "I would rather have a cup of tea than sex." - Boy George