There’s a special kind of thirst. A thirst that can only be quenched by a special kind of drink. I am, of course, talking about tea. At the end of a long, busy, and exhausting day, there are few things as satisfying as a well prepared (brewed for at least 5 minutes, extra milky, milk goes in the mug first) cup of tea.
This poem was written after a particularly stressful day of placement when I sank into a chair with a huge mug of Empress Grey tea and did my very best to shut out the rest of the world.
Boil The Kettle
Boil the kettle, boil it good
Been waiting here too long, too long
Then pour it out, just like you should
This feeling can’t be wrong, be wrong
Feel the warmth and breath the scent
The flavour is so sweet, so sweet
At home, at sea, in car or tent
My evening is complete, complete