The Grand British Brew Poem by John Carter Brown

I declare unto you there's a brew that is true,
Golden brown until we make it white;
It's drunk in the morning, it's drunk after noon,
In the evening, and also at night.

The procedure to make this infusion
Is quite ceremonial in China;
But this king of all drinks well deserves it,
To be honest there's just nothing finer.

Some take it with milk, some take it without,
Then the question is: 'One lump or two? '
But whatever the colour or sweetness of taste,
You can't beat The Grand British Brew.

If your preference is for the Darjeeling,
Earl grey or 'P.G.' or 'Typhoo, '
It makes not a farthing of difference,
You're choosing The Grand British Brew.

Now the yankees would drown us in coffee,
The fed's, in their wisdom, would too;
But that bean is a poor substitution
For the leaf in The Grand British Brew.

I've tried every other refreshment
That the world has to offer to me,
But I find myself always returning
To the brew that is true: to my tea.

Written Oct 1994