Thursday, February 21, 2008

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  Brewing Tea

  Pristine water, slowly steaming,                        
  

  Waiting for a visitor’s debut                                         
  

  Slip into its depths. With seeming                                
  

  Ease, the teabag drops inside to brew.             
  

  Murky blossoms, swirling petals                                   
  

  Faintly form of golden amber streaks,              
  

  Tawny hue. The bag then settles                                   
  

  In to stay, with carelessness it leaks.                            
  

  Like an anchor trails the string down                             
  

  To the water’s dusky face of burned                            
  

  Glass. Beneath that most tranquil brown                       
  

  Veil of water warm, the tide has turned.                    
  

  Bitter nectar slides with smoothness,                             
  

  Soothing aches of body, mind, and soul.                      
  

  Magic liquid yielding calmness,                         
  

  All must quickly leave the mellow bowl.            
  

   

  • 8:49 AM
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