Tea

When I get up in the morning,
I really can’t stop yawning,
Until I’ve had my first of the day.
And before I sleep at night,
I insist on my right.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I usually have it at ten.
Two hours later, one again.
That usually keeps me going until three,
When I need one more,
Or maybe two or three or four.
What would I do without my cups of tea?

Well, what did you think I was on about?

In a pub I’ll not touch beer,
Or sip a sherry on the pier.
I wouldn’t touch a spirit with a pole.
Coffee makes me sick,
And Horlicks gets on my wick.
So you could say that I am tea total.

And when I get old and die,
And meet my maker in the sky.
I’ll say to him … or her, “Just before we settle down.”.
Can I have a cup of char?
‘Cause I haven’t come this far,
To a place where no tea’s served in the town.

The morale of this tale,
A tale you all know well,
Is that, if you ever meet me in the square?
Offer white, with just one knob … of sugar,
Or else you’ll have a job,
Persuading me to join you for a chat. So there!

Author: Vince Poynter
From the poems section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 17 Dec 2017
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
The image depicts the author holding a tea cup whilst squatting by a row of new, white Mercedes-Benz E-Class cars

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