As I take a sip of the fresh brew
Its aroma hits my senses
What is it about a hot cuppa?
That relaxes you and shakes your grey cells,
Both at the same time
And I look at the warmth of the cup and wonder
This tea certainly has a strong character
And a sweet soul
Will I be able to do justice to it?
Will I be able to utilize its strength to the fullest?
Will its sweetness keep my bitter memories at bay?
Have I been fair to it so far?
What if in the last few sips it loses its taste,
Becomes bland and cold?
Will it be the teas fault or mine?
For I let it sit idle, same age old mistake of not jiving with time
There were other invites, full of warmth and promises
And I chose this one
It demands certain pace and respect for the all things hot
When I finish, will the cup be clean and empty, may be a small drop left
Or will the cream of what I could have had, be in the cup still?
I was sent here by Indira of http://amaltaas.wordpress.com/, and thanks to both of you- this is such a beautiful read! 🙂
Chai, that most wonderful of beverages. At war the one thing that kept my soul intact next to God was chai.
Miss Soma, you are a gifted wordsmith.
Nothing like a garam garam chai 🙂
thanks for such lovely comment CW 🙂
Thanks a ton for such warm encouraging word hug 🙂
A most wonderful piece of poetry my friend,
and how passionate thou art about a simple
cup of tea 🙂
Your writing of poetry is
likened to that delicious
taste of freshly made tea 🙂
Quality is in the tasting, as
is the reading of fine poems…
Androgoth Xx