Tag Archives: tea

Tea Stains






wakes the brain,

gives us momentary gain,

so when we flag, we drink again,

and though we know we should abstain,

as ranting babble grabs full reign

and in our heads a caffeine pain

builds until we feel insane,

and manically we complain,

as we shakily maintain

our pitiful refrain:

addiction is our bane;

must we forsake this bitter grain?


Tea stains,

yet is more fain

to offer gain.


The Daily Post #Tea

©Jane Paterson Basil




don’t offer to brew me my favourite tea,
unless you possess the sweetest loose leaves.

Those bags are abhorant;
their taste does not warrant
the honoured bestowal
with the legendary motto of the late Earl Grey,
who, as you may know,
once was political head of the nation
now laughably named the UK.

Loose leaves are a fragrant,
attractive, and blantantly
vastly superior, exquisite treat,
to feeble tea sweepings, both tasteless and sad,
so slyly concealed in a pale, perforated,
limp paper bag.

Please, don’t be confused
tea that’s infused
— a spoon for each person and one for the pot,
in water that’s steaming and scaldingly hot —
so lovingly strained, poured into a teacup
of fine bone china or slim porcelain,
daintily lifted and sipped at my leisure,
caressing my palate with citrusy pleasure…
dust that is dumped in a thick, chunky mug
— printed with some vulger caption or image —
to be vacantly swilled or unwillingly gulped.

The Daily Post #Infuse

©Jane Paterson Basil