aniket22
Wellknown Ace
Sunlight peeks through curtains drawn,
Whispers gently, “Come, it’s dawn.”
Coffee brews, the kettle sings,
The weekend stirs on softened wings.
No alarm to steal the dream,
Just lazy thoughts and rising steam.
Barefoot steps on wooden floor,
Time moves slower, asking more.
A book half-read, a toast in hand,
Plans as loose as grains of sand.
The weekday’s rush now feels afar—
Today you are just as you are.
So stretch and smile, no need to race,
Let morning wrap you in its grace.
For Saturday begins the art
Of giving peace a little start.
Whispers gently, “Come, it’s dawn.”
Coffee brews, the kettle sings,
The weekend stirs on softened wings.
No alarm to steal the dream,
Just lazy thoughts and rising steam.
Barefoot steps on wooden floor,
Time moves slower, asking more.
A book half-read, a toast in hand,
Plans as loose as grains of sand.
The weekday’s rush now feels afar—
Today you are just as you are.
So stretch and smile, no need to race,
Let morning wrap you in its grace.
For Saturday begins the art
Of giving peace a little start.
lovely
