A new day dawns, a gentle light,
The sun begins its upward flight.
Through windowpanes, a golden gleam,
Awakening from a peaceful dream.
The world outside is hushed and still,
A tranquil air upon the hill.
The birds begin their morning song,
Where they have rested all night long.
The smell of coffee fills the air,
A silent moment, free from care.
A simple joy, a quiet grace,
A smile upon a sleepy face.
A Sunday morning, slow and deep,
While all the hurried citys sleep.
A day for rest, for peace, for thought,
A perfect calm that can’t be bought.
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 