A Poem About Making Green Tea

I think that for the next time I write any sort of poetry, I’m going to look at using longer lines. It is something I haven’t done in a while. I don’t think it will make what I write better, but I feel that for my ability and lack thereof it might be better if I go for longer rather than shorter. Then when (if) I improve enough I can look at being a bit more brief.

Anyway, here’s a poem about making green tea.

Whilst I like all the verses here, I like the first the most. The others feel as though they came from something else, I think.

I hope you enjoy.

Green huddled up and dry
Sits in a net among itself
Awaits nothing, expects nothing
Serves one purpose it knows not

Liquid fills the container
Of which inside the net rests
Reaches green and brings it higher
Until no more liquid enters

Upon the container a lid now rests
Loosely sealing everything inside
In the dark the green unfurls
To expand in volume

The lid is removed
As is the net
The green leaves the container
Leaving a light brown brew

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About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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