By Angelina Rizzo

Tea——a hot, heavenly, nourishing drink. Ghosts emerge from the cup yelling, "Beware, I'm hot!" As I drink it, lava flows down my throat racing as fast as a thousand horses. The richness melts on my tongue making me unaware of anything else going on in the room. I struggle to get the delicate mug away from my rose, red lips.

I inhale it. The smell is warm with goodness. The look of the sweet brown liquid, irresistible. The steam hits my face, hot and moist. The taste is enough to strengthen an entire army of men, after fighting a war.

Right away I am addicted to the smell, to the taste, to the look, to the steam, and especially to the strength and wisdom of tea.

Tea tastes like the Celtic highlands. It smells like no perfume could smell. The tea hovers, as an angel does from heaven. It radiates, warming me to my very core.

Tea is a beautiful name, a beautiful taste, and a beautiful drink.