Warmth, it is the rising steam
Blowing against my lips
In clouds as thick as cream
I down it with timid sips
That numb my throat softly
Because the first cup is always costly

Release, it is the loosening of the soul
Uncoiling like a taught wire
Caught 'round the neck of a young foal
The bitter-sweet taste is a burning, liquid fire
But the feeling is contagious
There's no need to feel courageous

Desire, it's filled to the brim
Like a sea of flowers
Unwilling for their monthly trim
It churns within me, a growing power
That's too subdued to abuse
And too wonderful to refuse

Disappointment, it ends with the final drop
When the cup's tilted vertical
I realize it's time to stop
For my tongue will never reach the final hurtle
That mocks me from the shadowed curve
Making me think that it's too good to deserve

Rejoice, it's a teaspoon of honey
To ease the bitterness of the blessed brew
It clears the clouds and becomes quite sunny
So that I may offer some to you
Take this cup, and I swear you'll smile
For the unmistakable taste of honey-sweetened chamomile