Escaping into the steam
and red clay of the rooibos leaves, traveling
To a place beyond life's troubled horizon
Where the fog begins to clear.
After three sips
I have new ears. The cinnamon
Has silenced my echoes of worry
Ricocheting off walls
of old thoughts. The hands of Chai
clean up the dirt of yesterday's spillage.
My head sinks into the chamomile pillow
and drifts off to a lavender sleep.
Comments
Wow,
I think I want some of that tea ...
enjoyed your poem, could almost
smell the tea ... great descriptive
ambiance,
thanks for sharing,
Richard (themoonman)
comment
Thank You. I appreciate the feedback.
Harmonee
I am familiar with all those perfumes of tea and the taste of most, especially the Rooibos from Africa.
I lived in Africa for quite a few years and it has always held me in under its spell.
From the African people to us westerners, I had a lovely affinity with them all.
Some had differing views on how to go about the day to day things, but I would always look inward so I liked them all.
I notice that you are from the USA but have you always been there??
Loved the write keep up with all and ask if you need anything here,
Yours, Sparrow..
Comment
No, unfortunately I haven't gotten the opportunity to visit the other continents. Hoping to get Italy next summer. Thank you for your input.
T 4 2 please!
WOW, INDEED. great stuff!