I love tea
and when I was a boy,
my grandmother made me some.
Her tea was better,
than any other tea
and she told her secret to me.
At eleven in the morning,
or four in the afternoon
we used to chat,
my grandmother and me
and we shared
a lovely pot of tea.
She taught me to respect
and grant dignity,
to those from whom my ancestors came.
But mostly she taught me
about integrity
and how to live right in the eyes of the Lord.
I really miss my grandmamma
and her love still spreads over me,
when I make that special tea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem