Tea drinking and tutting, while
Constantly tucking
Those stories away,
Concluding and clucking, while
Carefully tucking
With each shifting day,
These sifted small weapons,
Bred to be ready, if
Ever unfurled, so
Flames will stay steady, so
Edges won't curl, so
Colours won't fade, so
No need to jade with over-reacting, for
This will become much too distracting.
