The ritual, the preferences, constant chatter and warm china; the cacophony of a cafe, mid afternoon. Once reserved for aristocracy, tea is now common place and varied, a social tool for conversation.

In the crook of the pot

The crock, the spout

The hot hot hot

Of water boiled

I submerge the leaves

Clip down the lid

And wait

Lemon slice and sugar

At the ready


When I pour the tea

Mugs overfilled

And hands unsteady


Of alchemy

Camomile’d gold

To raise


And drip into throats

Dry from talking –

We have the handle

To turn this conversation

Bottoms up

And drain to the last

Drop drop drop

No stuttering, no pausing,

Echoes of empty cups



Amber R Walker, Hull, Creative Writer, Bookmaker, Lover of art

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