Chamomile

Yet, my thoughts are racing still
through this mind and its hill
About the things that passed afore
about philosophy with its core
But something tells me deeply
the answer is not to be within me
Thus shall I take myself far away
on the coasts of the soul and the bay

On my table I made you sit calmly
O white of all the things of beauty
Your philosophy is definitely different
and your aroma is not like any scent
Once on an upheaval to the Kingdom
then down to the bed of boredom
What kind of devilish thoughts lie in you
or what kind of a bless you can do

Thus, I shall sing a song
to thee O my dearest companion
For all that passed along
for all that was suffered and done
Nothing is left but me and you
and here I write my words for you
O my dearest of all that is to be
O my cup, O' Chamomile tea...