Poem: Light, Lazy Chamomile NaPoWriMo 29

I lift the leaf-shaped handle

On the lid

Of the round glass pot

The chamomile buds

Are cozy and snug

The scent fills my daydreams

But the buds are in no rush

Lazily giving away their gifts

I fill the glass cup

Just a hint of yellow

I can barely smell the chamomile now

And the taste is ever so light


With higher heat

Or by pressing

We can force the process of

Giving up

Becoming stronger


We know that too well.


A light, lazy cup of tea

Is enough

Is perfect

About the author:

Joan writes about tea and drinks it quite a bit. Now that she is 52 and has to eat carefully, and still has not been called “Toothpick” (her childhood nickname) for decades, ¬†she really loves tea because it is zero calories, but there is more than that.

She loves how tea embodies what she knows about life: the life is simple and beautiful, and meant to be savored, shared and enjoyed. Joan writes about what tidbits she picked up that she wished she’d known when she was younger. Check out her blog and her books on Amazon and Kindle.

About the Author: joangregerson

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