I've always been fond of secondhand tea

It has a certain virtue that not all can see

With love and with care, you can steep it slow

Over fire and loved ones and the place your mind goes

I'll drink to childhood and wonderland's draw

To imagination and the magic you saw

In a mug chipped with memories, I'll stop and I'll sip

A dash of milk blending with a twirl and a dip

Sugar grows sweet in the tropics, in heat

And the heat on my cheeks feels like homecoming, sweet

A little fall of rain won't stop me from dreaming

Though in the kitchen I'm drawn back by a kettle steaming

As I look back fondly on peppermint years

I wonder at winter, how snow became clear

Yet each day I wake filled with life and with fire

Tea touches my lips, made of home and desire

With the moral of this story it's not hard to cope

Drink secondhand tea, steeped with hours and hope