Surgery, poisons, Necromancy and more,
Yet who recalls the original cure?

Tea, yes tea, that is exactly what I mean,
The cure-all, the authentic elixir, the very first thing.

There's oolong, black, white and green,
Floral, herbal, root-based, yellow and ginseng.

Some come in rare colours: pink, purple and blue,
Others in rare flavours like prarie smoke and insect poo brew.

Mushrooms and fungi, they make tea too,
Reishi, chaga and lions mane brew.

Such delights, such types, a palopony of flavours,
Nil, even elfen, merian and kephera can be savoured.

Blood tea, yes, you heard me, its true,
In Magnagora I'm sure it exists,
Dreamt to life by the members of the Gormounds crew.

Yet I must backtrack, stop and rewind,
Step away lest I get distracted with designs.

It would be lie, if I lauded -only- tea,
For medicine is not a single devotee.

Peppermint, chamomile, nettle I can condone,
Without additions they can easily stand on their own.

I simply can't go on without mention of additions,
Sugar, milk, cream are givens.

I mean honey, citrus and lemon too,
Cinnamon is great for noses, ears and throats,
A sure way to combat the flu.

Blueberry has anti-oxidents and is a cure-all fruit,
Pair it with walnuts and dandelion root.

Gosh, you'll never be sick again if you follow my rule,
The Doctors will be out of buisness, they'll claim me a fool.

Ah, but surgey, poisons and Necromancy have their merit,
Tea can't raise the dead after all,
Only their spirits.