Sunday Morning Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The house is quiet, still, and slow,
The morning light begins to glow.
The sun climbs up to meet the day,
And chases all the dark away.

A gentle steam begins to rise,
It greets my nose and wakes my eyes.
The coffee scent is warm and deep,
While all the world is half-asleep.

No clocks to watch, no tasks to do,
The sky is painted bright and blue.
The morning rests, the air is free,
Sunday morning welcomes me.