By: Amoureax Amant
I cooked two cups of jasmine tea with steam,
waiting in rain that echoed crooning stream,
that crooned with beating heart like jumping fawn,
when sun hid in pale rain curtain at dawn.
I raised one cup of tea under willow,
waiting in rain that turned to drifting snow,
that chilled icy treetop and jasmine tea,
when sun came out and fell in distant sea.
I sipped chilled jasmine tea which sipped like wine,
waiting in drifting snowflake under pine,
that faded as gray as gray grieves of mine,
when moon came out and poured down chilled moonshine.
But I would wait there with pale umbrella,
till dead branch stretched out bud with aroma.