Tuesday, January 20, 2009

My tea

In summer, winter, autumn and spring
I hate to miss this lovely thing.
Aroma of leaves boiling in water,
mmmm!! Nothing else does matter.

Hunching on the railing
I stand, at the top of my building,
a place I love to be;
holding a cup of hot aromatic tea.

Past doesn't hurt, future doesn't exist;
the most desired way for man to subsist.
Savouring every sip, leaving nothing to drip
I start for my home, a daily evening trip.