Steam’s risin’ from a chipped old cup, The dawn still hums, the fields wake up. Bees drift slow where the daisies lean, The world feels right, and soft, and clean. There’s a robin singin’ near the eave, A fox moves quiet through the leaves. Cows graze low by the misty pond, And the day rolls in like a gentle song. So I’ll sit right here and let it be, With the porch beneath and the sky on me. The coffee’s warm, the hours slow, And peace is all I’ve come to know. No grand parade, no grand design, Just this stillness that’s mine. Old wood creaks as the kettle sighs, Sunlight spills where the clover lies. The air smells sweet with moss and pine, And every breath feels half divine. So I’ll sit right here and let it be, With the porch beneath and the sky on me. The coffee’s warm, the hours slow, And peace is all I’ve come to know. No grand parade, no grand design, Just this stillness that’s mine. Let the world keep its hurry and schemes, I’ve got time and I’ve got dreams. Where the flowers bloom, I’ll stay awhile, And greet the day with a quiet smile. So I’ll sit right here and let it be, Where the wild things roam and the soul feels free. The coffee’s warm, the heart’s at ease, And life hums soft through the willow trees. No grand parade, no grand design, Just this peace that’s mine.
