Tuesday, 12 October 2021

STIR

Nothing stirs but my tea;

Spoon tinkling mug, sprinkling song,

Bag tossed silently aside,

Steam rises, steam falls.


Legend has it those first teamakers

Used nan's coronation pot and best china,

Calling forth loose-leaf incantation;

I marvel at the old ways,

Lost to us, now.

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