Ode to the humble brew

I wrote this poem (2001), when a friend and I went to a café for coffee and at that time tea was not on the menu. She commented on what a shame that was as she enjoyed tea rather than coffee. Ah.... the humble cup of brew that offers solace in times of woe easing heartbreak and giving comfort when times are low. The English adore it The Turks abhor it the encouragement cup that lifts one up. Ah..... the warming tonic It's an uplifting blend the dawn breakrefresher and tea timefriend. The English adore it The French abhor it These leaves of stew medicinal brew. Ah.... sadly it is fading A stronger taste invading in cafe's and bars parading. The Italian's adore it The English abhor it This 'acceptable' sup for the new age yup. Ah.... The tea cup is replaced by latte bowls and grounded beans Cafes are now the social scenes. But some traditional lot are still 'warming up the pot' enjoying the simple pleasure of this quaint old fashioned treasure. So be encouraged my friend Tea has not reached it's end.