Hippos on Parade by Tommia Wright

Tea Tapping Time

Hopping with hippos had been the precursor.
The object – who would feel ‘worser’
After ‘hours and hours’ of spinning around:
One singing jibberish; the other smiling, not making a sound.
A silly dance on wobbly feet,
While attempting to clap an off-rhythm beat.
When ‘older and taller’ the smallest became.
So set the first change in the old game.

Tea tapping time, the ‘dance’ came to be:
A focused moment of ‘watch and see.’
Saucepan – centered on the table – turned upside down,
The only rule: At tea-time, no frowns.
The game had begun with a song found by one.
One played while the other got the feel,
Music of new, of old, that was the deal.
Tempo tapped by teaspoon: one, two, three.
The other’s turn and challenge: perfect mimicry.

Decades had passed since the games began.
Time had come to train a younger fan:
Hopping with hippos was step one,
Followed by tea tapping time and other such fun.
With flutes, keyboards, trumpets, violins, drums
And the chorus of family providing accompanying hums.