Sharing a free-verse poem written this morning. A storm has just finished giving us some much-needed rain—and washing the pollen out of the air. The temperature is a little cool for this time of year, it’s 58 degrees. An early change of seasons? I’m enjoying MacBarens Vanilla Creme in a Cascadia Ponderosa bent apple.
Enjoy!
The air is crisp, the storm has washed my world washed new, A cool morning is forming, its skies of blue.
On the grass's green, a glistening sheen eflects the sun on earth's fresh, dewy green.
From my pipe, smoke unwinds A vanilla cloak, not hard to find.
My favorite blend, a lighthearted cream, turns mornings quiet moments into a daytime dream.
Wispy swirling and dancing in the post-storm light, my Cavendish companion, calm and bright.
A peaceful moment, still and slow, as dew on the grass begins to glow.
Beside me now, a steaming mug, Warm coffee whispers, rich and snug.
Its dark aroma, deep and bold, A morning story to unfold.
