Morning Tea

Upon the kettle’s gentle, tuned embrace, 
A dance begins where water meets the flame; 
The soothing sound, a melody of grace, 
Invites the day to shed its weary claim. 

With measured leaves, both fragrant and divine, 
A ritual unfolds as my senses wake; 
Each step precise, as clock’s hands intertwine, 
In steam’s warm breath, the morning’s peace I take. 

The warmth cascades through fingers, soft yet bold, 
As swirling steam ascends to greet the light; 
In every sip, a tale of joy retold, 
A fleeting moment, turning pure delight. 

Thus, tea prepares my heart for what may be, 
A brew of hope, sweet solace, setting free.