A Swashbuckler's Tea

I hitched a lift home nestled securely inside an open backpack, hopping out straight onto the familiar cedar deck. After hours of commanding bottled galleons and braving the city breeze, a leading man's vocal chords demanded urgent, soothing restoration! I spotted a steaming ceramic mug of mint tea cooling atop the low cedar plank table. Leaning my purple stem forward, I carefully dipped the curved handle of a little wooden honey dipper into the rim with my green fronds, then tapped it rhythmically against the porcelain. Clink, clink, clink! The aromatic herbal steam enveloped my stitches, coaxing a warm, melodic hum right out of my throat.