I'll stare down my coffee mug,
And contemplate myself.
Then when the mug is empty,
It goes back on its shelf.
I do so love my hot drinks,
Thank Lordy for my mug.
Drowning all my sorrows,
With every soulful glug.
Mugs can help you meditate,
Just shut your eyes and drink.
Taste the tea or coffee, sweet;
And simply let thoughts sink.
Woefully underrated: mugs,
They're something you should love.
Live it, love it, feel it, dream it;
They're a gift from up above.
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Sometimes it's nice to be out of touch. Sometimes it's nice when you don't have to rush. Sometimes it's nice to read a good book. Sometimes it's nice to give nature a second look.
It's ordinary, but it's beauty aches to be realized. So ordinary, it's grace so often disguised. Moment by moment it lies within these confines. Too often overlooked by preoccupied minds.
In the grey and misty morning, When crawling from your bed, Its natural infusion, Will clear your weary head, And in the deepest dark of night, Come stormy wind and rain, It will warm your...
Quiet. Calm. Serene. An ocean with no waves. A perfectly silent country meadow. The glistening tarmac of an empty motorway. Finally i am alone with my thoughts. A pure moment of calm.
Sit down and relax. Let my mind state drift. To a place that's much less taxed. To a place thats full of bliss. Where I can reminisce. Under suns eclipse. Of many precious gifts.
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