In the quiet dawn, a kettle sings,Releasing warmth in gentle rings.The tea leaves dance, a mystical flight,In a porcelain embrace, soft and light.Golden tendrils rise, weaving dreams,In the amber depths, where serenity gleams.With each sip, a story unfolds,Of ancient gardens and tales untold.The world pauses in this sacred hour,As the aroma blooms, a fragrant flower.Ceramic warmth cradles weary hands,While thoughts drift to faraway lands.A ritual of calm, this humble brew,Binding hearts with threads anew.In silence shared, and peace we find,A moment’s grace, in tea entwined.