an ode to cream tea

cream tea is one of the most 
decadent divine treats 
i will ever have taken 
away from England. 
no really, 
i could write poetry 
about the way 
a crumbly, buttery bite 
of scone
[pronounced scon 
as in gone by the way]
piled high with 
silky rich clotted cream 
[that can only be made
from cow's that were 
lullabied to sleep
and milked with a baby 
wearing a silk glove]
and let us not forget the 
contending, 
yet perfectly 
contrasted spoonful of 
fresh strawberry jam
sitting royally on top.
[yes, i do it the Devon way.]
a mouthful of this goodness
makes my mouth sings and dance
it is lush, textured 
and blissful,
it is then time to pair it with 
a massive gulp
of Yorkshire tea
that cuts through the cream,
cuts through the jam, 
the crumbly buttery bits
like a beautifully sharpened knife.
i love it. 
and look at that, 
the poetry has been written. 

do stop by england if you get a chance 
and have yourself some cream tea.