O Raspberry Leaf Tea,
you promise so much
and deliver a taste not unlike Ribena,
or perhaps the smell of raspberry bushes.
Was it only this week I asked dad to go to town for you?
If I wanted to start a religion
I might begin by promising that something natural
might deliver something inevitable.
I do not worship at the altars of herbs.
I sit and brew and consider the heresies of other hot drinks.
Why does coffee taste so different from how it smells?
(Or it does in my mind – I forget when I stopped drinking coffee).
Maybe I’m softening.
Maybe the high priests of Raspberry Leaf would have me believe that delivery follows ripening, as ripening follows brewing, as brewing follows putting on the kettle.
It’s all a little home-made for me.
What am I really thirsting for?
jam and giraffes 