Ode to tea

There must be something better than tea
I'm yet to however discover it
One might suggest coffee
But I'd have to shoot that thought down
Because coffee doesn't envelope me in contentment
Rather it can sometimes shroud my head with anxieties
but tea, the way I prefer it made
Is a womb of snug repose
reminder of a satisfactory days passing

Tea is a coma in the long sentence that is everyday
It invites me to sit back on the couch
fold my knees
and hold the iPad to browse certain something's
before I hit the day running
whereas coffee can sometimes be an exclamation mark
sending me in a tizzy of neurotic overdrive

Uneventful days
Of monotonous repetitions
have idle moments
of tiny celebrations
when I hold a cup of tea
close to my lips