Tea leaves they make a great cup of tea,
fresher, than that of those wrapped in a body.
However,
they have never revealed the future,
i Wish that they would,
then i would know when,
some of them,
decide to slip through the strainer,
and tickle the back of my throat,
or when they decide,
to block up my sink,
and spread themselves for miles,
of my well washed work tops.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice oNe Vince, they say the tea in the Bosten harbour isn't brewed yet :) .....Dave