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I have come up with an answer to Adwen's poem title, Cure for Loneliness: Tea. :)
Such a dear friend,
a warm cup of tea.
Comforting,
nurturing the
mind,
warming, heralding
to deeper skies.
It pursues tears,
sorrows,
distributing momentary
eradication
of doubts.
It encourages
thought,
bypassing the shallow
processes
accompanying loneliness.
(An extra section that I do not know if I should include or not. Comments?)
In an unfortunate turn
of events,
is it not logical
that one with no
preference for tea should,
indeed,
always be lonely?
...I do feel like I dipped into a Jane Austen flavor on that last section.
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