Tea is the leaf of soothing, of subtle scent,
The tender leaves filled with the murmur
Of every fragrant garden.
Here, when my tea kettle gently tweets,
I will brew your gift to me,
And taste your flavors through careful sip,
While your perfumed steam ascends.
On such a cloud my poet's spirit soars,
Surely my soul will find new heights,
And come again with immortal songs.
But why should such a patient drink,
Refresh a lonely old man such as me?
There was a time when I would seek
The sounds of ice to quench my thirst.
And so often I have filled a humble vase,
With flowers of chance to soothe my eyes.
But now this gift of tea! And I need no more,
To calm my spirit or rekindle my dreams.
Slowly I sip and  in the rising steam,
Picture each hour of friendship you have shown.
Accept my grateful thanks,
Oh humble cup of tea.