Poems (Kennedy)/At The Kik-u-Cha

by Sara Beaumont Kennedy

AT THE KIK-U-CHA^[1]

OF all the sights I e'er beheld
 In haunts of home or lands afar,
The very sweetest one, I ween,
 Was Kitty at the Kik-u-Cha.
A miniature Mikado court
 The salon seemed, with light aglow
And multi-hued chrysanthemums—
 So "Japanesy," don't you know!
   And Kitty—well, she was divine
   (Celestial, I should rather say),
   With painted brows and hair Japanned
   In quite the Oriental way.

Her robe was rich with 'broideries
 Wrought all in gold and silver threads;
Around its hem long-legged storks
 In solemn conclave showed their heads
A flight of cranes soared up her sash
 To nest, perchance, where on her sleeve
A group of silken cat-tails spread
 A most phantasmal make-believe.
   Not maid of Tokio herself
   Had worn her robe with more eclat,
   Or flirted with more naivete
   Than Kitty at the Kik-u-Cha.

Beneath a colored parasol
 She sat and poured her nectared tea—
This erstwhile fair American,
 This imitation "Japanee."
Her white hands fluttered here and there
 Among the tea cups on the tray,
Then hid themselves in her wide sleeves
 In just the most entrancing way.
I asked to taste her fragrant brew,
 Though tea, I hold, is not for man;
   She served me, but with drooping lids
   Demure as pagan Puritan.

But as I handed back the cup
 She sudden lifted up her eyes,
And, heart athrob, I seemed to stand
 Full in the light of Paradise!
To reach her hand I moved so close
 I trod upon her 'broidered storks
And brushed her cranes, nor stopped to think
 If in "Japan" Dame Grundy talks.
   I know not if that tea were drugged
   With some sweet philter from afar—
   I only know I lost my heart
   To Kitty at the Kik-u-Cha!

1. Chrysanthemum Tea.