Sunrise in my Tea-cup
Sunrise in my tea-cup, Its vivid pink tinting the pastel brown, A tranquil wisp of steam curling up, Shimmering and threatning to drown. A soothing stillness sinks in, As I lean against the window pane, Watching the dark winding lane, With its puffing jogger & his aching shin. Then, I grow afraid -to breathe , Lest this magic should cease! Gingerly, my fingers shift the cup a little, Making barely a ripple. I don't know for how long I stand there, With the tea in my hands growing cold, As my heart sighs with the wind & lays bare, I watch my soul gently unfold. My watch ticks in, pulling me back with a jerk, Letting this bizarre spell vaporize, I hastily drain my cup with its sunrise, And rush to work.