Up in the Clouds

Christmas Eve,
a scatter of snow.
Cold, very cold
as only the mountains
can be.

Darjeeling, midnight,
bells ringing,
ghosts of the Raj
dream in cold tombs
of lost Indian summers.

Kanchenjunga,
the sacred mountain
Her five peaks
the five treasures
of snow.

Salt, gold, jewels,
sacred scroll, 
impenetrable armour,
guarded by 
demons of old

Delightful to Meet Earl Grey

Delightful to Meet Earl Grey
Who was the first, original Earl Grey?
People ask in a quite careless way.
He was a British Prime Minister
Always charming, never sinister.

Bergamot was mixed with a black tea.
The citrusy flavour was the key.
This is very much a royal brew,
But humbler folk can purchase it too.

Bergamot oranges flavour the tea
which grow mainly in France and Italy,
a hybrid of oranges from Spain
and lemons grown in South Asian rain.

A Chinese mandarin made the tea
Blent it with bergamot for no fee,
but as a free gift to my Lord Grey.
So, the famous blend was on its way.

Grey lived away in the far North East.
Limescale in the water never ceased.
But the Bergamot redressed this flaw,
which popularised the tea much more!

Its fame quickly spread throughout the world.
The banner of ‘Earl Grey’ was unfurled.
Yet few knew who he could really be,
as they chatted and drank this great tea!

Note; The reason for the mandarin’s gift is 
disputed. It is said it was in thanks for Grey’s rescue 
of the mandarin, or his family.

A Nice Cuppa

Walking through the gardens
in the cool of the morning,
above loom the mountain peaks,
Green leaved tea bushes
wash against the skyline,
waiting to be picked.

Bright dots of colour,
the pickers are scattered,
on their heads, conical hats
of neatly plaited straw.
On their backs baskets
bags, full of loose leaves.

Behind the tea gardens,
like a scene from
a Bollywood romance,
rise the five peaks of 	 
the mighty Kanchenjunga,
mysterious, snowcapped
sacred, home to
a fearful mountain monster.

Early morning mists
drift through the valleys.
In the East, a pale, orange
banner waves across
the lightening sky.
Ghosts of the Raj
linger among the hills,
lie in the churchyards,
dreaming of sipping tea
beneath Indian skies.

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Sarah Das Gupta is a writer from Cambridge, UK who has also lived and worked in India and Tanzania. Her work has been published in twenty countries from Australia to Kazakhstan. It has appeared in over 200 literary magazines and anthologies including ‘The New English Review’, ‘ Moss Piglet’, ‘Songs of Eretz’, ‘Quail Bell’, ‘Waywords’, ‘Cosmic Daffodil’, ‘Dorothy Parker’s Ashes’, ‘Hooghly Review’, ‘Meat for Tea’, ‘Rural Fiction’ and many others. This year she has been nominated for Best of the Net’ and a Dwarf Star’.

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Image generated by AI. Please let me know if you find cultural inaccuracies.

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