Cup of Tea

It's not my cup of tea, I said

Really then? Said he. Whose is it?

How should I know?

Then which one is yours?

I thought for a moment.

It's sweet. Said I.

It tastes like bedtime and thunderstorms

And a thousand nights in that place I called home

Like an African sunset and a good old book,

All musky leather and memories

And I've been searching for it for far too long