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.
1 comment:
Can you make this for me please
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