White tea,
aristocrat that once
an emperor’s concubines’
slim fingers plucked
at dawn, dew-drenched
upon the mountainside,
rare oriental pearl, its
scent so subtle and precise
defies analysis,
is pure delight.
Within the amber
liquid lapped in
palest porcelain
tipped leaves uncurl
to leave a taste
upon the lips divine,
meanwhile like
mist or smoke
steam rises from the cup,
its wraiths unfurl
about its lip,
become a fragrant
kiss, a lover’s tongue
that seeks a loved one’s
tongue to touch
gently, tip to tip.
Delicious - a poem of temptation...(I don't understand Michael Shepherd's remarks re title - but then I rarely do) .
I enjoyed every sip of this tribute, Pete - except the title! I've never thought of it as that - being addicted to everything gold!
I also enjoyed this very much. Do you think if you repeated the line 'its wraths unfurl' it would give it even more impact? ? Always luv your stuff Gyp's
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Marvellous. Mr Crowther has chosen his subject well and celebrated it with elegant simplicity.