Tea

The English man’s opium. A
fuel for work, it helps to relax,
inspires and creates new thoughts, for
men of the pen, academics,
so high and mighty, writers, so
romantic and pompous, like poets.

Strange that when you gaze deep into
the darkness and its depths that you
can see yourself. Tis but a thought.
Dark water, infused with some herbs,
smells divine, yet taste is bitter.
Do not add milk, just for a while,
and stare while it’s still. A mirror.
Of sorts. When the surface ripples
it reflects no more. Should you wait
‘til it calms you’ll soon see again.
Murky perhaps, there nonetheless.
A darker world looking back, yet
clear. It calls. What’s it like in that
world? It’s amber, not dark. Warm. Cosy.
Don’t disturb, lest it disappear,
that warm amber world, brief as a
life. Gone too soon. Yet remember
the joyous feelings, brought to you,
And Smile.