Tea in the Garden of Emotion

Monet's Giverny Garden

I dreamt last night that I was in a Monet Giverny type garden.  The kind where pastel flowers all merge into one blended texture of color and a small bridge spans a pond with water lilies floating on turquoise-smooth water.  Off in the distance flowery arches become bowers meant for long hours of introspection and daydreaming. 

And there was tea poured from a pale blue pot into ringed-flower cups so translucent I could see clear to the other side. 

Spread on the grass was a checked tablecloth in palest pink and cream with edges tatted in lace. The daintiest of sandwiches cut in diamonds held the creamiest butter and fresh cucumbers sliced as thin as a poppy petal. A bite of a tender scone sent crumbs falling to the earth to be collected by ants in waiting.  Oh my the pudding, it outshone the sun, shining from the powder-puff-clouds sky.  This was the kind of pudding my mother taught me to make from scratch, with a good cocoa and rich cream baked in ramekins made from fine French porcelain.  It was a tea fit for fairies and gypsies, queens and thieves. 

My dream was all so proper and refined, with special guests that populated the ever so pleasant party in the garden.  Regret sat to my right, her corpulent self so overstuffed that she couldn’t tuck her thick legs beneath her, but sat ungainly with legs akimbo.  Hope positioned herself on a nearby bench, her hands demurely folded in her lap while she peered into the distance.  Curiosity, in a sprightly gown of yellow rosebuds removed a glove capturing the tears of Heartbreak that fell from behind her blue veiled hat.

Anger stomped across the garden in black boots mutilating blossoms and sending butterflies skittering to the sky.  Gratitude sat to my left, her brown eyes softened by the ever-present smile of appreciation for all life’s gifts.  Wearing a pink rose in her hair Inspiration sipped tea while creating a beautiful necklace of daisies and dandelions.

My tea party guest, Jealousy, wore a green frock and coveted the pretty teacup that Joy held, her pinky finger extended in tea-drinking delight.

I’d like to say that Fear and Contempt did not arrive, but of course they did with invitation in hand.  Each wore a black dress accented with deep purple vowing that it would rain eventually and the party would be ruined.

The last guests to arrive waltzed over the garden paths with such grace that even Contempt could find no reason to spoil the grand entrance of Serenity, Humor, and Awe.  The three twittered an apology for being tardy, while seating themselves at the grassy tea party.

I caught a glimpse of Love, her pink cheeks glowing as she smiled in my direction bringing me peace even as Grief wailed in the distance and threatened to storm. Such a mix of companions attended my dream party, all balancing on a tee-totter of life’s ups and downs.  A faceless voice said, “It is as it should be, part of the magical mystery tour called living.”  Contentment shook me awake as a new day opened before me