I wake up troubled as you do,
clouded mind, it’s colour blue.
I have no thoughts why this is so,
I only want to see it go.
Go it does when I get up,
as I enjoy my morning cup.
It’s tea of course but something more.
which opens up my blocked minds door
I’m sure there’s magic in that tea,
it can even set one free.
Not for ever but for a while,
often brings a little smile.
Morning tea dispels the blue,
unlocks the mind, lets light break through.
Cup now empty, gloom contained
a quiet smile, alive again.
Simple pleasures, and small feats. Great write Peter. xx
Beautifully penned, Peter. It’s the little things. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thanks Damian and PG….it’s a long day without a cup of tea, so get in early.No.matter what my mood a piping hot cuppa moves it for a while.
I guess so does bourbon but not at six on the morning.
Hoi hoi Peter,
That’s a qualitea poem. Hats off.
Love it a lot. Leave it up to me to murder your language.
If you are American: Thank you!
In all other cases: keep ‘em coming, please.
Kind regards, Gus
Thanks Gus and no I’m not American… Australian.