As I take a sip of the fresh brew <br />Its aroma hits my senses <br />What is it about a hot cuppa? <br />That relaxes you and shakes your grey cells, <br />Both at the same time <br />And I look at the warmth of the cup and wonder <br />This tea certainly has a strong character <br />And a sweet soul <br />Will I be able to do justice to it? <br />Will I be able to utilize its strength to the fullest? <br />Will its sweetness keep my bitter memories at bay? <br />Have I been fair to it so far? <br />What if in the last few sips it loses its taste, <br />Becomes bland and cold? <br />Will it be the teas fault or mine? <br />For I let it sit idle, same age old mistake of not jiving with time <br />There were other invites, full of warmth and promises <br />And I chose this one <br />It demands certain pace and respect for the all things hot <br />When I finish, will the cup be clean and empty, may be a small dropp left <br />Or will the cream of what I could have had be in the cup still?<br /><br />Soma Mukherjee<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-cuppa-life/
