Dipping into my favourite book , sipping from my favourite mug.
Me and you tea , we’ve travelled far danced with commets, played along stars.
You wanted to tag along on adventures,battling orcs, goblins and dragons; for the sake of a ring.
Together we conquered the High Rise.
And Atoned for our sins.
You encouraged me to continue; despite being beaten ,gagged and tortured.
Your warm hands embracing me after every metaphorical bruise endured. My Savior.
You never let me down.
Always sailing me through the pages.
Tea, my trustworthy companion.
My first in command , never cracking.
After many adventures, sleepless nights you became my alarm clock.
Shaking my body into reality; Becoming the chopsticks in my eyelids.
On a cold winters night you were my blanket of calm;
Caressing my throat with warm, tender kisses;
Floating me to the land of dreams.
Eventually becoming my sixth sense. An essential to functioning.
Your aroma reviving memories of the gossip between friends, Grandma dancing with the kettle attempting to make the perfect drink.
You became the voice when no one wanted to speak. The mediator in every argument , strengthening relationships. The matchmaker in a coffee shop reuniting two unknown lovers with your beckoning steam.
The language loved and shared.
I hope this has given you something enjoyable to read with your Earl Grey/ Darjeeling/ Chamomile/ Green/ Peppermint or reliable Builder’s tea. Throughout the poem I have hinted at different types of books , if you can guess what they are please place them in the comments and a box of China tea and M&S biscuits will be on the way to you.
As briefly mentioned tea is a sensory evoking memories of the past and creating new ones ;speaking of which I have one to share. During the early stages of mine and my ex-boyfriends relationship he took me out for breakfast every Saturday morning. Due to his insistence and gentlemanly attitude he always paid, despite my telling him not to.One particular morning I asked him to get me a cup of tea, to my disgust he brought me over a white milky substance; the tea bag barely touching the sides ((I like my tea strong)).
“What’s that?” I asked “Tea?” He replied bluntly. I shook my head shoving the tea over to him, making him drink it.
After that day he never made me a bad cup of tea again.
If you have any tea related stories I’d love to hear them . This is my first creative poem I’ve written so if you have any writing tips, comments , critisms or advice ; I’d appreciate them.
“You could never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.”. ~C.S Lewis.