I hear whistling from down below
Every second it get's louder
Warning me that it'll get too hot
The dial turns and the flames go out
The water falls out of the spout in a steamy line
Trickling into the desired mug
Patience is a game now
Waiting, and watching the leaves unfurl
And release the flavor so pleasant
A scent either sweet or bitter
And a color so earthly
How could anyone resist a cuppa?