Before I sit to cup of tea,
I look the choices over.
A dozen or so blends I see,
Of some I’ve tasted never.
Old Earl Grey is not for me,
“I Love Lemon” lies,
Chamomile tastes like a tree
With cinna-stick surprise.
Then I behold with gladsome glee
The one that I like best,
And I sit down to cup of tea
And calmly take my rest.