I pick out my tea bags,
Sometimes two or three,
Steep them in hot water,
Letting them be.
Then I sift through my cabinets,
Searching with care,
For the best little items
My chai might wear.
I’ve already made sweet foam
To crown her with flair,
Maybe she'd like brown sugar
To melt in her hair.
Honeyed lace drips down-
Her favorite sweet,
She pairs well with maple,
Cinnamon makes her complete.
Deciding how we’ll dress her,
A very indecisive time,
Should she wear caramel today,
Or vanilla to rhyme?
Perhaps she’ll indulge,
Mixing both with a grin-
A drink dressed in luxury,
My soft comfort within.
Picking out the mug is another story...