A poem
I sit at the kitchen table,
mug in hand,
steam curling gently upward.
The aroma wafts through the air,
a siren call to my senses.
I take a sip, the liquid warmth
sliding down my throat,
igniting my synapses,
sparking the engine of my day.
Then you walk in,
a mischievous grin on your face,
and regale me with the latest exploits
of our rambunctious canine companion.
Laughing so hard, my coffee threatens to escape,
as I struggle to maintain my composure,
savouring both the brew and your company.
In these quiet moments,
the world slows to a crawl,
and I am thankful for the simple pleasures
that make up the fabric of our lives.
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