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TIME IN A TEAPOT Remembering the mornings of sipping tip with my mother, who has long since passed... gentle morning breeze stirs the air whispers of steam rise in the morning hush teapot's whistle pierces the air teapot’s awakening call teapot’s spout forms a gentle stream teapot's warmth begins to flow teapot’s charm, a magic spell rising from teapot’s fragrant leaves scent of tea fills the air stories are told, and memories unfold echoes murmur from the past hours slip by like grains of sand love and laughter, tears and woe settle in the teapot’s belly time dwells in the unassuming teapot’s heart teapot’s secrets locked within its core
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