In the quiet dawn, a kettle sings,
Steam dances, a gentle breeze brings,
The warmth of a fragrant cup in hand,
A moment’s peace across the land.

Leaves unfurl with a graceful sway,
Their essence blooms in morning’s gray,
A symphony in silence weaves,
Whispers of stories the heart believes.

Golden hues in porcelain embrace,
Tranquil sips in a hurried race,
Each drop a memory, tender and sweet,
In solitude, the soul finds its beat.

As evening falls, the ritual repeats,
A calming dance, where time retreats,
In the gentle glow of twilight’s glow,
Tea’s timeless tale continues to flow.