VIV's POMES: Occasional visits from the Muse

Here is a poem I wrote while on holiday with my mother in New Zealand:

WHAT GIVES MARGARET HER GET-UP-AND-GO?

Margaret Walker, eighty-eight, decides to tempt the God of Fate
Against all sensible advice about what’s proper, right and nice
For 88-year-olds to do, she ups and flies into the blue.
New Zealand is her destination, Singapore her halfway station.

At Raffles, when she tries the tea, the brew is not as it should be,
‘It’s horrible,’ she tells her daughter. ‘Not been made with boiling water!’
On tour, it comes as quite a shock to have to rise at five o’clock,
When you have certain ailments chronic you need a jump-start, with a tonic.
What’s Margaret’s favourite pick-me-up? Some tea, of course, at least one cup.

Rotorua’s thermal water rejuvenates her every quarter
But dehydration quickly follows, so two more cups of tea she swallows.
From North to South she sails the sea, fortified by yet more tea -
to Brits like Margaret a good cuppa is worth as much as a fine supper.

Some days are long for this poor soul, and travelling starts to take its toll
So she can feel quite woebegone – till someone puts the kettle on!
Haast river’s rapid jet boat rides unsettle Margaret’s insides
But she endures it valiantly – she knows the perfect remedy
For queasy tums is on the way: they sell it at the next cafe.

At Walter Peak the meal’s just so, and Margaret dines with great gusto,
But then she starts to look quite peaky, ‘Where’s the tea?’ she utters, weakly
To the far end of the room daughter has begun to zoom,
The friendly urn is now in view and will provide that trusty brew.

A vineyard tour is her next trip. Of wine she takes the merest sip
She’d rather have ‘the cup that cheers, but won’t inebriate, my dears!’
When cruising out on Milford Sound the views are awesome all around,
But what makes Margaret grin with glee? Lashings of complimentary tea!

Across Te Anau lake she goes and, like the cave worms, Margaret glows
As her antenna soon detects yet more free tea. She cries, ‘Me next!’
No matter how far she may roam, the distance Margaret goes from home
Is measured out in cups per day – approximately seven, I’d say -
And this is not just anecdotal: one-seventy is her tea total.

When Margaret’s poorly, this elixir is the drug that’s bound to fix her,
So if you want to still feel great at the ripe age of eighty-eight,
Take a tea leaf from her book – and that of doughty Captain Cook
Who, when deprived of morning tea brewed up the leaves of the tea tree –
And if you want longevity make sure you take your daily tea,
So follow Margaret, you won’t blunder, don’t go downhill – go Down Under!