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